Dragon Witch
by Nezumi1
Summary: Grian of the Forbidden East serves as The Prince of Mirkwood's servant, and ensares more than cobwebs in Mirkwood's vast forests. Can she help him fight the new evil that rises against Middle Earth? And who's torturing Legolas? ::Chapter 22 Uploaded::
1. Elrond, the Messenger

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter One: Elrond, the Messenger  
  
_We have heard of high-elves, Rivendell has its elves and so does Mirkwood. However, some elves don't come from anywhere in the mapable portions of Middle Earth, they come from the North, the South, or maybe even the Forbidden East. No one knows why it is forbidden only that it is. And where we travel begins far East of the Iron Hills, and farther East than the Sea of Rhûn. In fact, it was farther than East itself…_  
  
"Mr. Greenleaf! Mr. Greenleaf!" a small hobbit was running through the place yelling like a banshee straight out of hell. "MR. GREENLEAF!!!!"  
  
"What do you want George?" an elf sighed. He didn't look like the lord of Mirkwood in the least bit, at least to her. He was a tad on the scrawny side, a bit too blonde, and didn't have nearly has much as enthusiasm as she would have surely hoped. After all, had he not journeyed on the conquest in the destruction of the ring? "Are the Northerners attacking again?"  
  
"No, no, no, Mr. Greenleaf!" George the very cowardly hobbit cried, so very different from his father. George Gamgee was the youngest, and far the most timid of the eleven of Sam Gamgee, Sr.'s children. "Its Mr. Elrond, from Rivendell! He's come! Well, he's coming… but at any rate, he's only but a mile from here…"  
  
Legolas instantly awoke from his slumber, "What tidings does he bring?"  
  
"He refused to tell anyone of the riders…"  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…" _  
  
Elrond came in a grand entrance as he always made habit of doing and approached the newly crowned Legolas. "We must talk," he said, not even bothering with the elf's father. He was sick, with some disease which he had just discovered a cure for and it wasn't going to be well-received. No, not at all. "Of course father's illness, I have found the source and I believe I have the cure…"  
  
"Then what is with all your secrecy? George Gamgee is the most trustworthy man who has ever crossed Mirkwood!" Legolas told him, his eyes were darkening. Elrond gulped. The situation had become worse than he had feared. This perpetrator had taken control of this elf too. "Eb ti etom os. Erom reverof enog eb soahc!" the elder elf muttered under his breath, and the clouded eyes that had preceded him became clear again. Then bright.  
  
_"DAMN YOU!" someone yelled. "Damn you Elrond. Oh, so you want to protect him. So…which matters to thee more the son or the father?" _  
  
"Witch," Elrond hissed.  
  
_"Oh, you're the bright one aren't you Elrond? Such a chauvinistic thing too… Only allowing thy sons to go out upon the journeys across the land. Have you not asked your daughter what she would like?" the laughter rang clear in his mind and pierced all of Middle Earth. "So weak a contradiction to my spell and hold over him too… yet, you must be happy, because I hate his mind. Oh, how I hate his mind." The thing redirected its attention to the other elf, "Did you hear that Sir Legolas Greenleaf? I HATE YOUR MIND!" _  
  
"Come, we must go where there is no one to hear us. Including that witch," Elrond said and lead him into the sorcerer's tower and up the staircase. In a rush, the younger elf felt ill at ease. Elrond had always been in comparison to other leaders and he seemed quite frightened, which whenever encountering some scared leader of sorts, it always best to use caution. "Your father is under the influence of another. He is controlled and his health contorted by her."  
  
"Then what is the reversal for this thing she has inflicted upon him?" Legolas inquired readily. There was laughter and then Elrond hung his head. "There isn't one? Everything has reversal and opposite, why not this? An anti-thesis?"  
  
"Not now," Elrond said. "There is nothing we could do for him now, without dipping into the pool of dark arts. She has chosen to cut his life by many years. He will die shortly."  
  
"What do you mean?"   
  
"She has chosen to kill him instead of you."  
  
"But… but… I don't want to rule Mirkwood! Never! And who's this she you're speaking of? What's her name?" Legolas was eager for answers to such a question, for it hadn't been in the year's plan to start his rule as Lord of Mirkwood.  
  
Elrond sighed, "I do not know her name. Gandalf the Grey has returned, he is following shortly, and he does not know her name. He says he cannot defeat her."  
  
"Have Frodo and Bilbo returned as well?"  
  
"No. Only Gandalf," Elrond gulped. "And I fear she will take my mind as well. I fear she will take the minds of the Elf-Lords in Middle-Earth. Her name, though un-known, does not proceed the prophecy of her. It was made no mention in the ancient scrolls when she should come, but is proclaimed to be the Witch Queen."  
  
Legolas stared at him. "A witch queen? From where? What is her kind?"   
  
"She is," Elrond gulped. "A horrid excuse for an elf. Of Eastern origin. East of Rhûn somewhere. That is all I know."  
  
Legolas scowled. "That is all you came here to tell me? Or my father? Which ever the original case may have been?"  
  
"Yes," replied Elrond. "It is with peeping ears about and a witch, who knows what could happen with a messenger? I thought it best to bring the news myself."  
  
The younger elf of bright blue eyes and blindingly blonde hair, folded his arms in rebellion, "I will not take the throne."  
  
"Oh, whether you like it or not," Elrond told him. "You are bound by duty and your conscience will not allow you to give up the throne. Do you not understand? From the moment you were born your position was decreed among all beings and souls. IN fact, you're a child only in legends—even more proof that you will, as destiny proclaims, become the King of Mirkwood. You will watch over Mirkwood."  
  
"It's a responsibility I did not ask for."  
  
"Not only is it a responsibility, it as a right. An honor. Nor all your responsibilities in our lives of eternity will be asked for. Sleep in the trees now, if you like, but it won't always be such blissful days for you."  
  
Legolas' eyes flared. As much honor as his society had been able to stuff into an elf, he had received, but, in contrast, he wanted to roam free for all of eternity. "You speak like you'd know, Elrond." There was only a bird chirping in reply. "If you have no more information of this creature, I bid you fair travel back to Rivendell and with such creatures about, I would offer you escorts."   
  
The elder elf only shrugged and signaled his own escorts to the open road. He would not stay a night over even if it was asked of him, he had come to warn the Prince of Mirkwood of his father's impending death, nothing more. But if the prince would not have it, then he would not have it. "Remember my warning. The witch will entangle you in her trap, as she did to Gimli, Son of Gloin." Then, Elrond of the Great of Rivendell gestured to the other horsemen, and they were off.   
  
The evil smiled.  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. You like? Yeah? Oh good. Please review! I love reviews and without having 5 no more story! And if you're an author on FF.net I go and read your 'fics. So review? Yes? Danke. On a more plot-related note: I don't think this would be considered a Mary-Sue, because the new girl is not the good that is more powerful than the canon goodies (and they are goodies), she's a new baddie! Correct me if I'm wrong! ^.^ Happy writings!  
  



	2. Mind Invasion

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Two: Mind Invasion  
  
_If evil sees itself as good, and the good see themselves as good, who is to say which is good and which is evil? For both believe themselves good, so would it not be so that the evil could be the good, and the good the evil? Good and evil is but a question of morals. For, if pondered over a long period, many come to the conclusion there is no good or evil. It is but an illusion, for you are the evil to the evil…_  
  
"Father," Legolas sat by his father's side, becoming torn by the fact he wanted ever so to leave, but wanted to stay as well. He'd sent George Gamgee all about Middle Earth, a rare feat to achieve because George was the most hobbit-est of all hobbits (and hobbits have a certain foul distaste for traveling) trying to find Gimli, Son of Gloin of the Lonely Mountain. It was a debate of family versus his friend, that should have been family. Surely the swiftest of the elves could find him? "Father, I must leave you."  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Thranduil." __  
_  
Suddenly Thranduil lurched up, and grabbed his son's throat. And Legolas tried to pull away put his father's grasp was firm, and there was nothing in the eyes he looked into. "Do you run away Legolas Greenleaf?" his father hissed, but the voice was not of his father, it was of a woman. "Do you run away? Are you coward?"  
  
"I'm no coward," he choked, with a snicker on his face. "You're the spineless one. You can simply not fight with your own body."  
  
The laughter from his father's throat was not as it should have been. It was so feminine, cold, cruel, and yet, it had the slightest hint of being carefree, like an elven-maiden's. She was unworried, apparently. "Haven't you yet learned patience all your years? I certainly have, but you're not quite as old as I should like."  
  
"Do you enjoy hearing yourself speak?"  
  
_Would you rather I speak in your mind Legolas? Shall I do that? Then you may only have to think, and should know of what you think. Is that not what you want? Because I can do it,_ a voice ricocheted through his head.   
  
_And why would my thoughts help you, woman?_ He thought venomously and reached out to touch her aura with a spark but she retreated quickly. Its much easier for me this way.  
  
_I should like toying with you. You're so fun! More of challenge than that fool Elrond or your father, quite dim in fact. Should I awaken him? So he may speak his own words as he strangles you to death? Forever more, I have control over his body. I've poisioned him.__  
_  
_You're in the castle,_ Legolas came to the realization in out-loud sort of way. Trying to barricade her from his thoughts, and certainly he had no idea if she could break the walls of his thoughts down, he pondered to himself. If she was in the castle and had poisoned the food it meant she was either elf, hobbit, or dwarf. She was too coy to be a dwarf, and as much as he loved the creatures, they were sneaky, but tact never happened to be a factor. Hobbits… now hobbits, just were not devious.   
  
_Like I have preceded your statement, you are much more fun than Elrond. He has not even gather this much information, even though I have told him the exact same educational tidbits. Why should you not overthrow him? After all, then you could rule over Middle Earth. Surely you can over throw the men… Your friend Gimli would happily assist you. Isn't what you seek? Power? And you could order your minions around _forever_. You wouldn't have to do a bit of work or stay around in Mirkwood. You'd be able to travel, and that is what you want to do, isn't Legolas?_  
  
He started to begin to think she was right—foreign thoughts were running through his head. It would be nice, wouldn't it? He wouldn't have to rule over the nothing-ness Mirkwood possessed, he'd have the entire world in his hand and he could travel about. Elrond, weakling that he was, did not stand a chance against, he, Legolas Greenleaf… no, this didn't seem right. _WITCH! Do not intoxicate my mind with such thoughts…_Suddenly he became quite aware of his physical form, and an elven-maid came in, and gave a loud scream. In fact, Legolas turned a radiant shade of sunset-violet, almost so purple he was blue.   
  
_Oh should I not? But they are your own thoughts Legolas. Don't you trust me?_  
  
"Never!" he hissed.  
  
The elven-maid had run out of the room, screaming to anyone with in range, "The Prince! The Prince! The King holds him in a deadly grasp!" Once again, she returned trying to pry away the king's hand.   
  
_If you think it wise, Mr. Greenleaf,_ the voice said. _You will find out what my magic is. But as I see it, you are too weak to invade my mind._ Suddenly his father dropped him, falling back to the golden sheets of his bed. Legolas rubbed his neck, she had channeled her power into him that was clear. In previous years, he had been much stronger than his father physically and mentally. His father was murmuring a chant in a foreign tongue he did not understand, and this bothered him greatly. Elves take pride that they have knowledge to the highest extent, and he was sure it wasn't dwarfish, for it wasn't such a system of grunting as dwarfish did seem to be… it was queerly poetic.   
  
_What am I to call you? You are a queen? Or so you claim to be…Are you too pusillanimous to bestow a name upon on which I should call you. Or would you rather prefer the title Bitch? Being quite aware of the fact it rhymes with witch…_ he snickered.  
  
She laughed, and he was quite frightened. It was a laughter he would not expect evil to have, odd as it may be, her laughter was child-like and cheerful. Genuine laughter, not the laughter Gollum had possessed or any other creature. _Lórien I was thrown from their gates long ago, and I hold that grudge against elves. Ah…no, dear Legolas, I am not a dwarf. My mother forced me away, how cruel does that appear? She loved me naughtt and I may claim the title of a queen, especially from my eastern lands. Does that suit you as answer?_ Legolas smiled, so he had not heard  
  
_Nay, but it was far more than I expected from the likeliness of yourself_ .  
  
_Oh, you are not satisfied?_ The voice laughed. _For now, you shall be permitted to call me the Black Queen, because you. Yes, you Legolas Greenleaf, shall meet your doom under my spell._ Following such a statement, she followed it with vengeance rushing through the voice, that had seemed almost angelic at times. She hissed, similar to many a serpent he had met in his journeys, _The doom you were supposed to meet under Saruman. _  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Would anyone like another chapter? I need more reviews here. ^.^ No, I just want more reviews. Sheesh. Me, the egotistical bee-yotch. (My friends would agree) Anywho, you like the story line so far? Its "not etched in stone" as I read somewhere, so if you have an idea you think would be good in it… tell me! Or something you would like to see, otherwise, I got my own agenda and I tend to spoil some… moments that should be serious. ^.^ Just me. Just like I enjoy putting weird philosophy or something like that at the beginning of each chapter. ((Its what I think about in my free time… when not thinking about a- how hot Orlando Bloom is b- stories/fics c-how hot Orlando Bloom is d-how sexy Legolas is, and e-how hot Orlando Bloom is)) Anyway, just tell me if its good or if it sucks. Tanx!   
  
Disclaimer I forgot it in the first chapter. I'll probably forget it again. So, for the whole dingbatted thing… I don't own Lord of the Rings. Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien Estate does. And if I was trying to steal Tolkien's work, I'd be an idiot, and compared to his genius self I am. So… I'm only trying to do a slight increment of justice to his story line. KK? (Plus, if you sue me, I ain't got nothing but 3 pennies)  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com (Hey, maybe I'll even get back to you!)  
  
P.S. I forgot… if you have any sayings what-so-ever in Gaelic (any kind) /Norwegian/ Pinyin I really love it if you'd send it to me! Tell me what it is too, peaz, I only know a little bit of Gaelic, so… I just need phrases and what they mean. K? Danke schern. ^.^ I wuvs you! Oh no this isn't leading anywhere in the fic… Happy Writings! ^.^  
  



	3. Unseen Elf

Warning Um, implied… *clears throat* Well, ya know, but its not true! Just accusations and some-what adult insults… And a tad of swearing or too.  
  
Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Three: Unseen Elf  
  
_Is it more cowardly to flee from the powerful? Or is it even more cowardly to stay and battle against an enemy one is too weak to face? Truly, one could not decide. Because though the battle shines with valor and honor, he is tremendously foolish. The soul in flight exuded a fear of the creature, he is wise. But is it more cowardly…__  
_  
"My master! Are you alright?" the elven-maiden with a light voice asked, and Legolas looked up, gazing. She was beautiful.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… thou."_  
  
"…I've not seen you before," he peered at her curiously. Such a skin he'd yet to see, she was shorter than many elves. Only 5 foot or so, yet her long black hair created an elegant look about her face, cascading down in a braid. Her eyes enchanting eyes tempted to draw him in, but he shook his head. Galadriel only bestowed such a shameful effect upon him, but they enticed him, and without even looking directly into their green frames, he found himself thinking thoughts of a certain sort. "What do you do about here?"  
  
She blushed, her tawny skin was golden in the torch's light, but the pink to her cheeks did not go unnoticed. "I do whatever needs to be done. Sometimes I clean, sometimes I cook, and sometimes I tend your father, my Prince."  
  
"I am simply Legolas to anyone who works here. You are a beautiful creature, it's a wonder I haven't noticed you before," Legolas wondered to himself, out-loud. He wasn't one to take advantage of his father's attendants, however, noticing a pretty one now and then wasn't a crime was it? But this one out-shined them all—she had a natural beauty, almost as if she were a goddess that shined reminding him of more pleasant times despite what had just befallen upon him. Responsibility and the possibility of an end to his rambling days.   
  
She blushed even more so. "You shouldn't say such things, my P—Legolas."  
  
"It is a true statement," he replied and dusted his hands off as he got up. Leaning over his father, he found the pale face still hardly breathing. "Witch, Bitch, Black Queen, whatever you may be, I will find you and I will kill you."  
  
The timid attendant stepped forward, "How can you be sure that you can defeat her sir?"  
  
The young elven-prince swung around, startled. Hadn't Elrond said they'd be alone? The room had been un-heard by anyone, least of all a servant? "How would you know?"  
  
"Well, if you'll excuse my worry, sir," she nearly shriveled into a ball. "All elves can read minds it isn't just limited to you royals you know. And… I thought if I knew why the king was… well…"  
  
"True," Legolas replied. "I suppose it did look queer, seeing as he has been unaware of his surroundings for some time now. Two full seasons." He turned again. "And yet your mind is barricaded. Why is that?"  
  
She looked down at the floor, shuffling her feet. "My father was part wizard, taught me such things. Very good to have sometimes you know, because you don't want people intruding upon your thoughts whenever they bloody feel like it."  
  
Legolas nodded. "I suppose my defenses were down, seeing as I was concentrated on other things…"  
  
"Is this Black Queen, what else is know about her? Why hasn't Master Elrond defeated her?"  
  
Legolas shrugged, and looked at his father again. "He told me he cannot… You seem like a sensible elf, I would ask of you: I have three choices. I can abandon this whole place because I don't want this responsibility. I could stay here, rule over Mirkwood and nearly escape my possessed father every 5 or so seconds. Or, I could kill my father, justifyingly because there is something that will never be cured in his head. What would you do?"  
  
"I do not, my Lo-Legolas," she replied shrugging. "I haven't had such a choice, and never will. My father departed from this world long ago."  
  
"I'm sorry. How?"  
  
"He was destroyed by an evil wizard," she replied. "But I wouldn't suggest running away. I think you have much more potential at running Mirkwood and the elven-world than anyone should ever know. Maybe you could even bring back to life Lórien. That's what the entire kitchen in whispers of anyway, for many of them came from there and wish to see it in glory again."  
  
He folded his arms, "Tell them not to get ahead of themselves."  
  
"You are destined for great things, my lor-Legolas," she said smally.  
  
_You are destined for great things,_ the evil voice returned and immediately his walls went up. _Funny… you should be weaker since my last attack. Perhaps you grow immunity to these or something of the sort. We shall see. But you ARE destined for great things, Legolas Greenleaf. Good or bad she did not say. But great things._ Legolas was happy he had stumped her with his barricades of thought. It would simply not do if the enemy knew the strategy. _You girl!_ He thought he heard her yelling in the servant's head. _ Keep your mouth shut.__  
_  
"What is your name?" Legolas asked, ignoring the fact that the Black Queen was in his head. Most evil angered easily and in most cases he'd seen, the evil should come out into physical form when angered. He wanted to look upon this one's face.   
  
"Grian," she replied softly. "Gree-un."  
  
Legolas looked her up and down while the Queen in his mind snorted, mumbling to herself about insolent little brats… "I should like to call on you when Gandalf gets here. I think it would be beneficial to Middle Earth if the Black Queen was destroyed as soon as possible. And I truly believe you are the one to do it."   
  
"Yes, my lor-Legolas," she replied, curtseying before saying. "I must get more damp cloth for the king's forehead."   
  
Legolas waved his hand dismissively. His mind dallied other places in this time of trouble, yet knew he had to say it, "Don't bother, Grian. If he is to die it will end the great suffering he is enduring at the moment." The heart he possessed inside him felt squeezed dry of what any compassion may have still had in it from recent affairs. To top his fortnight off, they'd probably pronounce him King at the next council, to be held here, in Mirkwood.   
  
"Yes, my lord. Oh dear! I mean Legolas…" she said, and gathered the spilled cloth from the floor mopping up the ice cold water. She wasn't quite sure if he had even heard her reply, and certainly she wouldn't doubt such a thing or hold it against the young Prince. His mind should rightly be other places.   
  
All in a rush, as usual, George Gamgee hussled into the room, "Mr. Gandalf comes! He's still a few days off, and is acting fair queer… Said no one was to visit him any longer… He says it is urgent, but refuses to take another horse…"  
  
Grain slipped away from the three unnoticed, and made her way to the dark chambers of the kitchen where she would be yelled at by the dreaded and cruel Amaryllis. The young elf that dallied in the once golden, now dark halls, only remained visible by her pale green eyes—still luminous as she started to descend upon the servant's staircase. George Gamgee could faintly be heard rambling to his Lord in bits and pieces. Grian had to wonder—why was she permitted to call the prince Legolas? Perhaps he had tried to cure George of the habit; all of such would be in vain she supposed. For he was a Gamgee after all, which said it all in one word…  
  
"Grain!" a voice barked pinning her against the wall. 'Twas the elf, Amaryllis, a cruel elf who exuded only outer beauty, he inner beauty was not there to exist. "You did not prepare the feast as you were directed." Amaryllis smiled as the younger elf shivered and shook under her. She would tear this castle and kingdom apart one by one. Hated all of Mirkwood, she did! And her only purpose for working here for so long was only to have that goal in sight.   
  
"I found a shorter way of doing things, so I could help the king…"  
  
"You did not follow directions. And what is your business going about to the king's chambers at any time in which you please. Perhaps you're giving his more than the wet rags?" Amaryllis accused her. Grain wish to any gods she could shrink, but fifteen minutes later she sunk to the floor. It hurt so badly, to be so battered and torn. For no known reason, Amaryllis, her superior, hated her and every small space of air she breathed in. George Gamgee found her when the day was not quite night but rather close to it, and his grew wider than the ocean stretched. He bustled back to his master. Swiftly Legolas almost flew to the elven-maiden wounded body and wounded pride.   
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Very long. Mmhmm. I know. I'm thinking about raising the rating to PG-13 because from here on out it gets darker and darker and darker… You get the idea. Anywhosers, I be having fun with this fic. ^.^ PLEASE review. *begs on hands and knees* Bitte??? Wellup, maybe I just should be patient, ne? Tschüs!  
  
Disclaimer Oi, I told you before. I no own Lord of the Rings! ^.^ Loverly peeps in Britain do! Yet… I do own George Gamgee and Grain and Amaryllis so peaz no use them with out my permission. Ja? Danke.   
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com I love getting e-mail! (Esp. how my writing sucked or was ok or whatever)  
  
P.S. No saying in different languages? Oi… any sites? Me not know hardly any.  
  



	4. Flight of Gandalf

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Four: Flight of Gandalf  
  
_If one takes over another's mind. It shouldn't be easy to tell the real from the illusory any longer, in fact, it would be impossible. The person may see every last bit of memory, would he not and would be able to act exactly as he did before the mind was taken over by such a foreign body. Only a wizard would see, with the insight they have, that someone has taken over one, and that the taken over, is dead. For dead is without mind or soul…_  
  
Gandalf stood on the road to Mirkwood, a perilous a road it was at this time. He wished deep with every bit of his heart that the lady had traveled with him, or Frodo, or even the senile Bilbo Baggins. True, he was a wizard yet this evil was not to be treaded as lightly on. "athair… iníon…" then all of a sudden he became rigid in stance. "Tréde ara carthar escara: máin, cruth, innraccus." True, it was! Wealth, Beauty, and Worth you did so love your enemies for! So to soothe his senses Gandalf began murmuring the words of Triad in his mind. "…Trí adcoillet gáis: anfis, doas, díchuimne…" Three things that ruin wisdom: ignorance, inaccurate knowledge, and forgetfulness.   
  
The presence suddenly changed and when he looked next, an entire army descended over the hill behind him. "Is fear rith maith ná drochsheasamh," he murmured to no one in particular. Still he doubt himself, many people only turned around to face the fate of danger. The herd of orcs stopped short, in a complete halt, and then fell to their knees murmuring in the foreign language. Though extremely daunted by such an action, Gandalf just ran his horse off the road. Old Forest Road was not known by many, and certainly not Gandalf. He preferred the Western side of the mountains and the land of Gondor with his former fellowship than the land that lay east of it.   
  
With good reason, he'd avoided the east for years. An evil lingered here, and he was linked directly to that evil. He himself was the cause it existed upon the realm. He shouldered the responsibility silently, if asked he would produce such information, but not readily admit to it. Never should Gandalf the Grey turn into Saruman. Ever. Both of the 'S's had caused the Fellowship great torture of the physical and psychological nature—and those two, those two had been but pawns in the Black Queen's game. And the ring, oh, the ring had been but the pawn's sword. Now he feared she played no material death games, well, not anymore; she played only mental ones. A dangerous enemy that made her, and it appeared she enjoyed the torture of Legolas, son to be King of Mirkwood.   
_  
__Run Gandalf the Grey of Gutless. Run! Because you are a coward. A spineless coward. I should like to hex you but this Legolas of yours, Greenleaf. He's taking too much of my time, and I don't like it._  
  
Gandalf only continued running his steed, without any reply only thinking of his destination. Forcing himself to only think of his destination, less it gave away a certain plan he had been sorting out.   
  
Like any good plan, it required revisions in time. But he must consult Legolas on the particular issues, though he knew not how he would avoid certain questions the elf would have. Gandalf, as wise as he was, and still quite as noble, would never admit such a thing to Middle Earth. Only if Lady Galadriel, former Lady of Lórien would say such for him. _Weep not for the memories, Gandalf, weep not,_ a voice much more pleasant, though still some what the same told him in his mind. _I am with you._  
  
_Oh sure you are_, a sarcastic one ricocheted through the wizard's mind and Gandalf was beginning to be irritated. Women. Elven-women. Always intruding upon a man's thoughts when he needed them for his own time. _ And Gandalf, the elf has fallen into my trap. So you want to be left alone to your own thoughts? Very well. I suggest we leave him alone Galadriel, no lady are you to me._  
  
And so Gandalf tapped into the elven-woman's thoughts. _LITTLE INGRATE!!! Do you show no respect?_  
  
_To the likes such as you. No. You were supposed to die under my pawn's hand._ The other voice, though angelic, seemed to be empty._ I suppose I shall have to send a bishop after you Galadriel… a bishop…_  
  
Gandalf pulled away from such conversation, though he knew that she was gone. A Black Queen in the game of chess, it seemed she was regarding the situation as. However, he felt she was lying about the pawns. Sauron had been more than her pawn. He had been her other bishop or knight, maybe even a rook. Saruman had been a knight, because it was her favorite piece, he knew for certain, and Saruman's goal had simply been to destroy Gandalf. There were 4 things this Black Queen despised: Elves, in particular Galadriel of Lórien; peace; love; and above all others, even above love and Galadriel, Gandalf the Grey. When she had ran so many centuries ago, he recalled her vow of vengeance and her hate filled eyes that had made him turn away to cry. This being, not even a soul, it was of hate. Pure hate.  
  
How could he tell his comrades this was all his fault? This would never have happened if Gandalf the Grey hadn't been a foolish young wizard.   
  
.-*-.  
  
Translations What I will tell you… the others are secret… _Is fear rith maith ná drochsheasamh_—A good run is better than a bad stand. Irish Gaelic. Therfore… Irish proverb… Don't ask how to pronounce, I dunno myself.   
  
A.N. Short chapter. Ja? Whaddya think of it? I think I finally know where this is going but then I looked at the philosophy on Ch. 3 and though *CRAP!!!! STUPID ME!!!!* You can see why? Good and evil. Damn. As you can see, I raised the rating to PG-13. Me thinks it best. Just 'cuz I don't want any flames from parents or something, because I corrupted their child. *shrugs* Its happened before. Not a pleasant memory. Well anyways, please review! (We've been over this before) And I be happy. Merry Writings! *in the third chapter I made a couple typos: Grain = Grian.*  
  
Disclaimers Ya saw Chapters 2 and 3. Whaddya readin' this for?  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
P.S. Sayings in different language? Ja? Gut! I mean… good. Please send me 'em. *begs on knees*  
  



	5. A chroí

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Five: A chroí  
  
_Would one rather not see or not hear? It is a simple question, because either way one would be at a loss. The deaf can not hear the glorious notes of music and the blind cannot see the beauty of the land. Yet both have more insight than one may think, and therefore, perhaps we would see better into the intent of people's hearts if all were blind and deaf…_  
  
There was a groan in a chamber that seemed too grand for a servant. "She's waking up Mr. Greenleaf!" George ran into the king's rooms, then hurried back out again. Funny, he'd only spoke to the beautiful elven-maiden once or twice before such a wretched thing would fall upon her that she would be out of the greatest healer's care, for she was the Healer in the castle. "Mr. Greenleaf! Hurry! Quick!"  
  
The foreign elf suddenly sat up, and scratched her nose, "Does Baduìn know I'm here?"  
  
"Who?" an elf and a hobbit inquired.  
  
"Hmm?" she asked, looking at them. "Why are you looking at me so oddly? And why am in the guest chambers and… oh my…"  
  
A hobbit looked up from the floor, "Did I forget something?"  
  
"No, I'm just quite… bare," she finished off as gracefully as she could. The two reddened and slunk out the door, not quite remembering such a fact either.   
  
George Gamgee was the brighter than the brightest tomato, as he said to his employer, in a wee voice, barely audible, "I guess I did forget something."  
  
There was a giggle from the doorway. _Quite odd,_ Legolas remarked inside his head, with careful barriers up. _It should have taken longer, I think it even takes longer for me to dress… let alone a woman. Oh, well, she was quite quick with her movements when she was in Father's chambers…_  
  
"Has that-that witch returned?" she asked quite softly.  
  
"Only for small bits, I hear she enjoys torturing Gandalf. Let her guard down once and I latched onto her aura," Legolas replied. "I guess it should have more of my attention, well, now that we don't have any fear of you dying in your sleep. Who caused such a bloody mess at any rate?"  
  
She gulped down the name. Oh, did she ever want to tell him. But she wasn't a coward she could withstand it, because she needed Amaryllis for something. Even if this was the only way she was going to get it. "Please don't read my mind my lo-Legolas," she said patiently. "It is rude to intrude on one's personal space."  
  
"Won't you tell me?"  
  
"I'm sorry, my… Legolas, but I can't," she replied. "And it isn't very clear anyway. I could be thinking it's the wrong person, I was in the dark after all, and… I shouldn't like to accuse anybody who does not deserve punishment."  
  
Legolas though not pleased with this answer, only told her, "If you ever have a clearer image in your mind, mi lady, then come and find me. And see George!" The elf gave the hobbit, who was small even as hobbits go, a poke. "She can call me Legolas, so why can't you?"  
  
"She's older than me, Mr. Legolas!" George cried. "I not be even out of me tweens yet!"  
  
Legolas shook his head, "Do you want to join me for din…"  
  
"I best be getting back to my duties, my… _Legolas_," she said and shuffled off like there was an army of Orcs at her heels. Looking down at the floor as she walked, Grian tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
Strange thoughts entered her mind whenever she even took but a slight glance at the Prince of Mirkwood, and certainly she didn't aspire to be an Amaryllis! Impure thoughts should not enter a mind such as her with _those_. Foreign thoughts, for she hadn't felt them or thought of it for so long. The prospect certainly frightened her and she wanted to be far away. She had to stay faraway.   
  
The castle tossed itself into chaos as Gandalf the Grey. And Grian hoped to Brighid that the elven-prince would not call upon her to meet the wizard. For if he did, she could not refuse.  
  
  
  
"Gandalf!" Legolas gave the man a good handshake however worn the poor wizard looked. "Troubled?"  
  
"And puzzled. I spoke a bit of my mother's language and the Orcs chased me, but stopped and… bowed."  
  
Gulping down his fear of Gandalf's bafflement, Legolas shrugged, "I don't know. What can you tell me about this Black Queen? Elrond came already…"  
  
"He said you were quite unreceptive of these new facts," Gandalf inclined his fuzzy gray eyebrows. "That does not seem like you."  
  
_Ah… two idiots together… How quaint,_ the voice said in their minds. _But you don't stand a chance. Oh come now Gandalf, I see what you're thinking, and would you surely like me to tell him what you are? An a-…__  
_  
_Shut it._  
  
_An elf,_ she finished shortly. _What's more, he would not understand my language. The language of your mother. Damn Orcs, don't even know my voice. Or perhaps its because…_Once again, the Black Queen laughed._ I suppose I must only think the chant in Legolas' mind now, since its assured if you hear it you will tell him what it means. Not that it matters, its just something I like to do to keep you in check Gandalf. Oh come now? Don't you love me, a thaisce?_ **"A chroí!"** a voice echoed rancorously in all of Mirkwood. Everything and everybody heard it to every last little elf and every last tree. **"And its personal!"**  
  
"Quite apparently," the two old friends muttered under their breaths before walking into the great hall where Amaryllis, whom Legolas had know since he was a child, graciously presented them with food. Smiling.  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Back to original chapter lengths. Well, some what. ^.^ Hopes you like. *is on a writing frenzy* Expect a chapter per day for awhile! O.o! I can't believe I'm making that promise. R & R! Go raimh maith agat! (Thank you)  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
P.S. At the end EVERYTHING that's in a foreign language will get translated. And I still need more sayings… Norwegian, Gaelic, or Chinese. *kisses and hugs*  
  



	6. Politics

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Six: In Which We Shall Discuss Politics  
  
_Politicians are funny things. They lead us into both despair and hope, yet they contradict themselves so many times, making false promises and fake hopes. Occasionally, one shall come along that outshines all the others, but all politicians are mortal, making them all susceptible to disgrace. Accordingly because of their status, their mistakes are more known to the public than the public's own. _  
  
Some politicians are more easily corrupted than others. They accept the bribes of the slick and sleazy lobbyist, and coincidentally monarchs such as princes and kings are susceptible to becoming something like a democratic ruler, for they themselves also become czars. Such was true in Middle Earth.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Thranduil had been a fair king of Mirkwood, not overly fabulous, yet far better than his father had been, but still not quite up to the scale of Elrond. Once Mirkwood had been the center of all trade, the portal of all trade from east to west and quite powerful. This had all deteriorated under Thranduil's rule. He had been torn at the death of his wife, when their son was only but five. Elves are supposed to live forever, he would always walk about the castle muttering. He recovered eventually, yet never had quite the same hold on Mirkwood as before and thus it fell into some its darker times.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
The Kingdom of Mirkwood still reigned some of the highest of the elven-worlds, but it had once been nearly as great a Lórien. Surely it had to be the land—Rhovanion, the land that bordered Rhûn; Rhûn the land that bordered the Forbidden East. Rhovanion had fell into complete peril once Galadriel and her ring had left, causing undue stress upon Thranduil. He had been easy bait for the Black Queen.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
The dwarves, however, kept their secret ruling system safe from all destruction. Moria had been strong hold until its deterioration, and now seemed to an outsider to be dispersed about Middle Earth. Still, even after Gimli from the Lonely Mountain had seen the grand Lórien dwarves and elves still fought with one another. Whether it was over something of use, as a wrong-doing of one or whether it was over a tavern chair, they argued. Legolas, son of Thranduil and Gimli, son of Gloín had been one, or two, as the case may be of a kind.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
That had just been shattered. Upon her way to Mirkwood, the Black Queen had unfortunately stumbled upon the Lonely Mountain more or less. As Elrond had eluded to in his brief visit with Legolas, Gimli was under her spell—his mind, though knowing it wrong, twisted like a puppet on a string to her command.   
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Elrond had been deemed 'The Councilor' since his famous council and gathering of the Fellowship. They too were famous in politics, and at The Council of the Races held every year, subsequently following the fall equinox, were a current refute to any question to hard to answer. Peregrin Took, otherwise known simply as Pippin, thought this to be of a hilarious nature and chronically was known to break into uncontrolled fits of laughter at this rebut to a question.   
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
This autumn however it seemed, contrary to Elrond's usual admant meeting schedule it was to be canceled. Instead, a war council was being held. For though, the message had not yet arrived at the Greenleaf family's front door step—the elves and the dwarves were at war.   
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Seemed pretty pointless 'til the end, ne? Another short chapter, but kinda important. I think. But its kinda like what's supposed happening, ya know? Oh, well… *sighs* Chapter Seven will be better! I promise. (And not just rambling about politics) Oh, I should also note: That line that kept repeating was on purpose! ^.^ Of course!  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
P.S. Still nothing in Chinese/Norwegian/Gaelic? Alright. I give up. *sigh*  
  



	7. Arrival

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Seven: Arrival  
  
_Time is only illusion, and yet too much of time is spent on time. When the day is over, truly the only thing that will matter is what you have done to another soul. Whether it is a good or bad act of judgment one cannot say until the outcome, and that takes patience. Time. Does time move in a straight line or does it move in a circle? A revolutionary belief, may be, that time moves in neither… it moves in a spiral._  
  
Peregrin Took, commonly known as Pippin happily traveled into the East. He'd grown accustomed to traveling in all his years, and sincerely believed such had prolonged them. Pippin had Meriadoc Brandybuck in tow, and didn't show signs of stopping. They were following Gandalf all over the globe once again.   
  
"Silly old fool, not tell us," Pippin told Merry, turning around upon his pony. Both were tall as hobbits went—4 and half foot or so. "And Galadriel said he was frightened to go by himself. That doesn't make much sense does it? Gandalf scared blimed scares me!"  
  
"Then why, oh why, are we traveling on this road?" Merry drawled. He hadn't been entirely enthusiastic about the trip. Hopefully no elf would mistake them for dwarves, though he believed Mirkwood should be a safe land. Seeing how Legolas had the kindest of relations with the kind.  
  
Hearing hoof-beats in the distance the two deterred their horses into the shrubbery, but as soon as the horse came into view they sighed. It was thankfully Gimli, perhaps they'd have a nice chat, but though the queer dwarf saw them, he kept on riding. "GIMLI!" Pippin yelled, quite irritated at such a rude thing. "That was odd. Perhaps it wasn't Gimli?"  
  
"No, it was Gimli alright," Merry sighed, and watched the spot where the dwarf descended over the hill.  
  
---  
_  
__George Gamgee…_ Then there was a shrill scream. And Legolas' eyes widened, seeing the opening that rarely came. She writhed in pain, while Legolas searched her mind, but all he found was pain in his own soul, a scream, and blinding light  
  
Amaryllis, his nanny when he had been but a wee one, tripped, falling to her knees. The bowl was sent clattering to the ground, as she grasped her heart. This all registered in Legolas' mind, but he paid no heed. When she got up, his contact with the Black Queen's mind was interrupted and terminated. An evil voice yelled in Legolas and George's head, screaming like she'd been shot with a thousand poison arrows, _DAMN HOBBITS!!! ESPECIALLY GAMGEES!!!!!!_  
  
Her voice retreated, and Grian rushed into the great hall, gathering up the spilled fruit. Legolas, unwilling to let the Black Queen startle him, plucked a red apple from the hard marble floor to hand to her. "I haven't seen you about in recent day." She nodded. "You're so quiet," he commented. "So utterly quiet. Why are you such?"  
  
"The way I was raised makes such cause m—Legolas," she replied her head still bowed. "I must go… Amaryllis." She held out her arm for her superior, yet Amaryllis refused. She hobbled up, snickering at the girl in mockery, and took the Prince's arm instead. "To save your legs, my lady," Legolas nodded at Grian, more so than at Amaryllis, and whisked his old nursemaid to her rooms. Amaryllis' face overcame with such vivid jealousy that even the prince took notice, making a side-comment within his head to look only at the beautiful elf in such a way while his single mother-like figure was not in her presence.   
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Grian sped around the corner, into the corridor and fell to her knees, weeping. Oh how her head and heart ached from this single elf! The way he would so sweetly and softly speak in her pointed ears, even if she but only passed him in the hall. Her head did not allow her heart to fall in love, but her dæmon wanted to break free into the glorious sunlight again. "…Forbid me from loving thee…" she breathed and began choking on her own blood. This always seemed to happen, especially since her last 'incident' with Amaryllis. Such powerful sensations she had not felt from a long time ago, and they only made it worse. Perhaps Amaryllis would inflict such pain upon her. Long ago, when she had been free to love whom she pleased. Time had passed and then she came to Mirkwood. The pressure of such a horrid thing, yet blissful thing as love, impressed so suddenly upon her, made the system she worked hard to keep in ship-shape condition, rebel against her. "Please no more of this torture!" she begged of her master, her own torturor. "Stop!" And she sobbed.  
  
----  
  
"This Black Queen," Gandalf explained to his friend. "I assume practices black magic of some sort. You say you latch onto it… what color does it shine? Black, Grey, Red…"  
  
"Gold," Legolas replied firmly. "It is gold. I think there may have been a streak of purple. But most certainly gold."  
  
Sitting back in his chair, Gandalf scratched his graying beard. Pondering such, while smoking his pipe, "Gold is not a color she should have. Pure evil she is."  
  
_Can evil be true, A-_  
  
_Don't say it!_ Gandalf barked. It would not be seemly for his friends to know quite yet, and it should not come from the mouth of the invisible enemy. No, this sort of thing should come from Galadriel or himself, perhaps Celeborn or Celebrian, but not _her._  
  
_All right. I shan't!_ Then evil's attention redirected itself at Legolas. _Is it really still gold? I should think it had changed by now._ The kept the information that it had been black before she journeyed here—never should she change into good. Never!  
  
Legolas ignored her, turning to Gandalf. Yet, his attention lingered not there either. It dwelled in an image of Grian, even more impure than that he'd dreamed of Galadriel. Incomplete dallyings they were too, such as loking at her ankles and watching a sea of cloth form around them. Even the thought of her brazen in front of him qas quite embarrassing, nevermind it was only the subconscious that brought such up. "Legolas!' a voice snapped him back into reality. "Your mind does not tarry with me, my thoughts, or thinking of the enemy. Concentrate!"  
  
"Hellooo all!" Pippin yelled throwing open the great doors to the hall. Quite a Pippin-ly entrance, a young mother would say, and it surely wasn't a compliment. "What is with Gimli? The Lonely Mountain and Mirkwood be the only places that remain a place of peace. A no firing of arrows or throwing of axes sanctuary… well, besides Lórien, but I should think he would be _happy_!"  
  
"What?!" the two companions stood in synchronization. _Lórien? Who is here to declare if war should rule in Lórien or not?_ Legolas wondered, while Gandalf only gulped. Galadriel had decided to come after all, she originally was supposed to be camouflaged. The Black Queen must have angered her enough.   
  
Pippin shrugged, "Lórien will always be a sanctuary, Lady Galadriel said, though it will only be for its heir to decide, and the heir of her ring—"  
  
_"She did what_!" Gandalf boomed grabbing the hobbit, then shaking him. "Did she name her heir?"  
  
"She said it was not Celebrian," Merry answered.   
  
Suddenly, Gandalf became frantic and he dropped the hobbit. His old withered hands ran through the white straggly hair that had once been so fair it had 'shone as bright as the sun', but he remained crippled. A small price to pay. Merry unfolded his arms, "There is an elf-dwarf war about Legolas, a deadly one. Galadriel and Celebrian follow us closely, but we've come by swifter steeds than them. Plus they have yet to be in Middle Earth for what now, Pip? 30 or so summers? So we bring these unfortunate tiding to you. I think Gimli is declaring war on _you_."  
  
"The witch," Legolas hissed. "You're doing this to him! Pick on someone who stands a chance!" The laughter sounded. "I will get my friend back and destroy you."  
_  
__Will you destroy my master?_ The voice taunted. _Because Master avenges for his queen's loss.__  
_  
"Good will always triumph over evil!" Pippin cried defiantly.  
  
_Who is good in this chess game? You or I? Should my cause win the war I declare upon all of Middle Earth we shall be the good. And if you win, we shall be the evil. So yes, Mr Took, good always triumphs over evil. For you are the evil in mine eyes._  
  
The hobbit's nose twitched. Such philosophy he did not like, for it seemed rather rude to make one thing so hard. So he turned to Gandalf and Legolas, "Galadriel and Celebrian are being escorted by many guards—Aragorn and Arwen desquised among them."  
  
"Elrond permitted Arwen to leave?" Legolas inquired.  
  
"When Aragorn asked with a 'if you please', she nearly bloody jumped in his arms. Quite clever, never would have expected it from her type," Pippin shrugged. "Ah! Food…now Amaryllis you do have my vegetable…"  
  
"Of course!" Amaryllis smiled hugging the small being. "I could hear you Pipin all the way from Rivendell's kitchen." As in after thought in her mind, she added, _And it disgusts me._  
  
.-*-.  
  
Translations _Dæmon _is your spirit kinda thing. Its usually in physical form though. From the book _The Golden Compass._ I really don't know if it's a real myth thing or not. *Shrugs*  
  
A.N. So we know who the evil is yes? Or do you have a guess? ^.^ I hopes I be doing this right. Don't worry, we'll get Gimli back. 'Cuz we love Gimli yes we do, we love Gimli how 'bout you? *way too hyper* But it's a long chapter, because Politics were boring. Yes? And I'm trying to update 'fic everyday…  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
P.S. Still needs more sayings… Because I haven't got any! *sigh*  
  



	8. Song of the Servant

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Eight: Song of the Servant  
  
_Friendship or Family? For you may chose with whom you associate, yet not your family. If one should turn evil, would it e better to have been the friend or family? The companion has chose the evil, the family member given no choice in such a matter. On the other ned of things, should a fellowship consist of all good the one should have chose. But if one's own dæmon does not know if the ally is good or evil, what then?_  
  
When once again the flower Liebora comes out to sing among the elves and mortals, a kingdom hold itself in laughter. The casetle hums with happiness, as it always has and always will, no matter what darkness overlord the land. Servants should wake the world with their heavenly singing…  
  
_"When in the spring time of the year__  
__When the trees are crowned with leaves__  
__When the ash and oak and thy virgin yew*__  
__Are dressed in ribbons fair…"_  
  
Legolas jumped in his sleep, rolling out of bed in shock. Gazing out the window, he began to think of his life and kingdom's political state. He'd yet to hear or see an attack on his father's sovereignty by any dwarf or elf, as it was quite possible their own kind should be angered by their refusal to fight. Though consulted many times in the last few days he'd yet, though presented with many oppurtunites decided not to dclare war on dwarves.   
  
_When the owls call the breathless moon __  
__In blue veil of the night_  
  
A voice danced through the hallways like te fog danced over the lake that pooled outside the castle. Quickly dressing Legolas opened the door to his room that he rarely slept in, preferring the trees of the forest, and searching to find the origin of the voice. It seemed so angelic, and relieved his soul from the torments in which they rested…  
  
_The shadows of our dreams appear*__  
__Amidst the lantern light_  
  
A figure stepped out into the open still singing while she blew the fire of a lantern out, "_We've been rambling all the night and some time of this da—_" she stopped upon spotting him observing her. "..ay. Good morning Lord Legolas."  
  
"Grian, I told you, you may call me Legolas."  
  
She blushed and continued snuffing the lanterns out. "I thought you'd forgotten me."  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"How could I forget someone that possesses such beauty?" he inquired, following her from lantern to lantern, until the lanterns became torches. "You and Amaryllis do not enjoy each other's company, do you?"  
  
"No exactly," she spat, then covered her mouth, shuffling humbly to the next small torc. Oh! He would mean to hate her now, speaking out of turn ad especially in such a tone in reference to his most favored nurse-maid. He wouldn't love her—for in his soul she found love,. Wait! She wanted him to hate her. Didn't she? Oh, how emotions confused things…  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Legolas only grinned, thinking of the sweet song he'd been deemed worthy of hearing. "I've seen you only a few time, Grian, but I cannot help but be enchanted by you. A siren, one could say in the beauty I have not heard nor seen since Lothlórien."  
  
Suddenly, Grian fell to the ground, then regained herself, "You have seen Lothlórien and its lady?"  
  
"Yes. Lady no longer. She went to the West," he replied. "And yet you have not told me from where you hail."  
  
"The same as Amaryllis."  
  
"The east?" he stated more than inquired. The mystery of her origin and of her in being was all the more intriguing. "Amaryllis only has given a small picture of her time there. Will you be at the Beltane Festival?" It was a perfectly valid question, considering many of the 'singing servants', as they were occasionally called, flocked to the Beltane Festival in the castle's courtyard and halls. Many were preparing the garlands already… What possessed elves to be servants he'd no idea, but occasionally they chose to be.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"Yes," she replied. "I really must go…"  
  
He caught her arm, "Will you meet me outside in the forest. At sundown… I beg of you."  
  
"Yes, by the brook's bridge."  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"Yes," Legolas grinned as she dashed off. The thought only occurred to him then how strong her arms were, however, it wasn't an out-of-the-blue surprise. Many women who worked in hard labors for their immortal lives had arms that could lift almost as much as a dwarf woman's.  
  
Amaryllis folded her arms in the shadows. So Grian was playing hard to catch with the Prince? Well, she'd show that damn elf what she was made of. The elves would fall. Her master would rule. Amaryllis sharpened her sword.  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Oi, short chapter, but I have to get to my dance class! Amaryllis you big blue meanie! ^.^ And our Leggie in love. So cute. Some notes that actually mean something… Beltane is a pagan holiday where the Goddess conceives the God, very good for fertility. May 1st. A Liebora is not a real flower, I made it up. It's a combination of the German word "Liebe" (Love) and some other language's "Flora". So, please don't take my flower! ^.^ R & R! Go raimh maith agat!  
  
Disclaimer I don't own Lord of the Rings. I don't own Loreena McKennitt's "Mummer's Dance" either. However, I in a way, I kinda own the changed lyrics. I think? I dunno. Doesn't really matter. Well, if it has a * by the line, it's a lyric I altered. But the real song is hers. So yeah… *That was one weird disclaimer*  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
P.S. I still have nothing in my in box. *sigh* Send me the phrases? Pretty please!  
  



	9. Brook Bridge Siren

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Nine: Brook Bridge Siren  
  
_The difference between dreaming and reality is that one is asleep, and the other is awake. Who is to say the difference between them? How do you know if you're awake or dreaming? Or when you're awake, supposedly, yet the scene out of your dreams or when you're dream but its feels so real, tastes so real, you certainly can't be dreaming. So are you awake when you read this? Or are you in your dreams?_  
  
"At the brook's bridge…" a voice murmured through his head all day, while Gandalf rambled the current situation to Merry and Pippin. They too seemed bored by it. Gazing at the light fixture above the great table, he founded himself thinking of the shiny black hair that cascaded over her tan limbs, and the pinkish full lips, and…   
  
"Legolas!"   
  
"Hn?" he asked, snapping his head towards Gandalf, displeased at an interruption with his thoughts, finally somewhat pure, of Grian.  
  
"An elf's heart is not disturbed into the depths of love often, but it always steers him right, only in one instance was that not true," Gandalf nodded, then looked out the window, winking. "Its almost sundown."  
  
Legolas' eyes became wide, as he leapt out the door. Pippin was quite puzzled, and about to ask a question, until Merry elbowed him grinning wildly. "Mister…. Legolas?" George questioned and then entered the hall shrugging. It wasn't his place to meddle in matters of the heart, after all he was but 18 years old, an infant in comparison to his 2, 931* year old guardian. "Ah… he's going out meet Grian," he reported cheerfully to 3 of his father's friend.  
  
"Grian?" Pippin inquired. "Is she a knock-out?"  
  
"I think you've had a wee bit much ale, Mr. Took," George said, and climbing up beside the large hobbit. "But Grian she's beautiful, even more so than Lady Arwen, and that be hard to imagine!"  
  
Gandalf smiled under his hat, at least the elf had found someone to ease his sorrow, for the old wizard could find no tangible soul to hold onto. Such a being would relieve him from the news he would have to tell his friend. Kill Thranduil. It was two simple words to roll off his tongue, but the consequences would be severe. The king was the channel she funneled her power through, Gandalf had determined. Therefore by exterminating him, she would be forced into physical form for an attack. However, it would take its toll upon the son of Thranduil; Legolas Greenleaf would be the new ruler of Mirkwood, in its entirety.   
  
  
  
_"When in the spring time of the year__  
__When the trees are crowned with leave__  
__When the ash and oak and thy virgin yew__  
__Are dressed in ribbons fair…__  
__  
__"When owls call the breathless moon__  
__In the blue veil of the night__  
__The shadows of the trees appear__  
__Amidst the lantern light…__  
__  
__"We've been rambling all the night__  
__And some time of this day __  
__Now returning back again__  
__We bring a garland gaily__  
__  
__"Who will go down to the shady groves__  
__And summon the shadows there__  
__And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms__  
__In springtime of the year__  
__  
__"The songs of birds seem to fill the wood__  
__That when the fiddler plays__  
__All their voices can be heard__  
__Long past their woodland days…__  
__  
__"We've been rambling all the night__  
__And some time of this day __  
__Now returning back again__  
__We bring a garland gaily__  
__  
__"And so they linked their hands and danced__  
__Round in circles and in rows__  
__And so the journey of the night descends__  
__When all the shades are gone__  
__  
__" 'A garland gay we bring you here__  
__And at your door we stand__  
__It is a sprout well budded out__  
__The work of our lord's hand…' " __  
__  
__"We've been rambling all the night__  
__And some time of this day __  
__Now returning back again__  
__We bring a garland gaily…"_  
  
Grian looked mournfully at the road to the castle in the shadows, the sun had well laid to rest. _Foolish elf!_ She thought to no one but herself. _He's an aristocrat, never would stoop to coming to meet a servant._ Tears began falling from her eyes, dripping down her cheeks into the small stream below. And she looked at the misty reflection in the water, how utterly horrid she did look, so out of place among all these of Western Middle Earth.   
_  
__"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Another reflection appeared in the ripples of the water and a hand wiped away a tear, "Why do you weep?"  
  
She took a deep breath, and shook her head, "No reason. Only memories."  
  
"Hasn't anyone told you: 'Weep not for the memories'?" he inquired, smiling and taking the wet tears from her face.   
  
She turned, smiling, "Many times, but it does not ever work."  
  
"My apologies for my belated arrival, I was day-dreaming," Legolas replied.  
  
"Dare I ask what about?" she asked, smiling underneath her hair. The other elf turned a bright shade of red in an instant and she cleared the hair from her face, looking up at him before remembering never to make eye contact.   
  
Legolas recomposed himself, and replied, "About you? What other beauty is there to think about in a world filled with wars and terror? I heard you singing again, do you talk of the ancient mummers of spring?"  
  
"Not so ancient," she replied, hopping onto the small bridge's fence to keep an elf from falling in the water. "I have seen them, and rumors abound in the castle say you were young you did."  
  
"2,391 years is not a long time by elf standards."  
  
"I know," she chimed, then winked. "Not long at all."  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. You like? Yes? We be getting to de mushy-mush-mush. ^.^ I'm being silly. Now if only my boyfriend looked like Orlando Bloom does in LotR we'd be doing good… Damn! He doesn't… perhaps with a bow and arrow, pointed ears… oh my! It doesn't look like him. Oh well. *shrugs* Anyway…I found in a movie summary that Legolas was 2,931 years old. Don't ask. 'Cuz I don't know either. I'm just using it. Even though I DID read the books first. R & R! Gracias!   
  
Disclaimer We already went over this. I don't own 'em. Mummer's Dance or LotR! I wish.   
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
P.S. Okay, just so y'all know. I am NOT trying to make this a Mary-Sue, in a couple chapter you'll see why I don't think its a Mary Sue, well a MAJOR Mary-Sue. I sincerely hope that Grian is acceptable even though she does act a lot like me if you put me in Middle Earth you know... but I'm not! Plus, there's a reason for it, and I'll give you a quote: "The writer doesn't write a story, he writes himself." Even though I'm not a he, it still applies. Plus, slash isn't my cup of tea if you know what I mean. So if after future chapters you think this is getting too Mary-Sue-ish please tell me. I do NOT, repeat NOT, like in any way plotless new character fics. So... yeah... but wait 'til say Chapter 22 at least. Please? There's a reason... ^.^  



	10. Babbling Brook

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Ten: Babbling Brook  
  
_Should one wish to be immortal? What if such a person was without love, immortality should have been in vain. If such an immortal was unhappy they should turn to crueler methods, and thus inflict pain upon those whom do love. So does a being's world revolve around love? Though many question such, the answer, should be, yes. It does. For if the immortal finds his love, then he is content to live out eternity with the kindred soul…__  
_  
Moonlight streamed through the trees, and she could nearly see his hair reflecting the light back at the round thing in the sky. Too majestic, even for an elf, it seemed to them both._ Am I awake or am I dreaming?_ They both wondered at the same time. "Not very long is it?" he joked, leaning upon an elbow on the rail. "I suppose you should know, an elf gets more beautiful with age."  
  
"You should heed yourself from flattering me with comments," she replied, with her eyebrows inclined. In her own quick mind, she could not think of anything to reply to such a thing, though dashingly handsome he was. In fact, recently, in all about her duties occasionally she would run into something because her thoughts tarried in places they shouldn't, some visuals a pure elf would not have. Running into things was a health hazard and very un-elf-like. Though she had already been a princess herself, when she was young she dreamed of marrying a dashing young handsome prince—finding such laid for her at the moment, she knew not what to make of it.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Once again, Legolas grinned sideways, "I should refrain from such you mean? But there would be no fun in that." She smiled and looked down at her hands, thinking to herself how rough they should feel in another's, worn by labor, quite unladylike. "That's first time I have seen smile, Lady Grian. Quite beautiful it is."  
  
"Thank you, you've seemed so very solemn yourself," she replied.  
  
"Only in the time that my father has fallen ill," he informed her, looking out to the brook that babbled along. "He left his estate to me, and before such he would have lived immortally…"  
_  
__"NO! YOU BASTARD!" she yelled at Thranduil. "I do not care about your wife. You cannot give up the will to live Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Nooo…"_  
  
Suddenly Grian jumped to her feet, "Your father…"  
  
Legolas sighed, as he tried to connect to his father's tainted mind, "Has lost his will to live. It doesn't surprise me." She looked at him like he was insane. "I was fully expecting him to go to the halls in such a way. He always loved to show his defiance, whether it was jumping through fire or locking up dwarves, he loved it. Dying on his own accord would not surprise me."  
  
"Oh," she twiddled her thumbs. "Not sad."  
  
"I am sad that we've lost him. And even more sad they will be plagued with me as their ruler. I didn't wish this position, and I shall be a horrid king."  
  
"But… it… you… you have been ruling this kingdom in the last few months have you not? Not many kings, but a few have slept in trees Legolas Greenleaf."  
  
His head snapped around, "I like travel."  
  
Then she snorted, "As if Aragorn, King of Gondor, does not still travel. They don't even worry about his safety! He is an escort. And surely you've made a careful selection in your companionships, though I suppose that one was forced upon you."  
  
"You know of the Fellowship?"  
  
"Yes, everybody does," she replied, it never occurred the more comfortable she became the more blunt she also became. "And of Sauron and Saruman."  
  
"Not many know of Saruman," Legolas inclined his eyebrows and she shrugged.  
  
"Amaryllis told me all I know about Western Middle Earth and all I knew of you, until you spoke to me, Legolas. Recently, she doesn't speak to me at all anymore, unless its in a harsh tone," she hit her head, suddenly. He liked, possibly loved Amaryllis, the woman had raised him. "Forgive me, for—"  
  
He raised an eyebrow, "For what? Speaking your mind? That doesn't bother me in the least bit. In fact, since you have been so quiet thus far it's a relief to know you have opinions…"  
  
"I've plenty of opinions, but learned to keep them to myself long ago."  
  
He grinned, sitting beside her, "Enlighten me."  
  
"About what?" she teased. "There's many subjects in this wide realm, and I surely cannot simply pluck one from the tree."  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Sizing her up, once again, he stated simply, "Weapons of preference."  
  
"I rather like archery, but nothing can compare to wielding a sword," she told him. "Because even you, the master archer of elves, has to admit that certain objectives cannot be achieved by an archer. Close range, for instance, you have to have a sword."  
  
"Are you swordswoman? Or an archer?"  
  
She looked at him, in mockery, "Swordswoman, as you put it, Legolas, but not an archer. I've never been able to aim at a goal in the distance. I've a compulsive nature. Though longed to learn I have over the course of many years, but the people in the east, we prefer swords."  
  
"I've never longed to learn swordsmanship," he told her honestly. "It always seemed to me that a hero would wield a sword and never an arrow. Which can be quite the opposite, for what is any given army without archers? Nothing."  
  
"True," she replied. "It's a great skill to learn, I just never had anyone to teach me."  
  
Thoughts formed in his mind, and he knew exactly what he was going to do to the precise moment she uttered she'd not a soul to teach her. It was his duty, wasn't it? "Isn't that an inviting statement?"  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. I liked how Leggie handled that with his old man. ^.^ I really am managing to drag this out, aren't I? *applauds self* I have way too much self confidence. Grian getting to be like me, well, at school. Me be very shy until you get me to open up. Well, I be going! Nothing else to note! Danke!   
  
Disclaimer I own nothing except the following: The Black Queen, her master (yet to be named), Grian (I've got a trick up my sleeve), Amaryllis, George Gamgee, and the plot. I think that's the only OCs…  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
  



	11. George Speaks

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Eleven: George Speaks  
  
_Have you ever wondered if everything tastes like chicken, couldn't they have got it wrong? Maybe everything tastes like sushi, not chicken. Who is to say Gods have tongues? Perhaps whenever we eat chicken, we are actually tasting sushi, a odd thought that is now, isn't it?__  
_  
The three friends pondered, and George felt rather small and left out. He was among such big people most of the time he wondered if he should ever live in The Shire again, for George liked no adventure. No sirree, George was the hobbit-est of all hobbits.   
  
Gandalf, Merry, and ever the favorite of his father's friends, Pippin rambled about things they thought to important to impress upon young George. "…I need to know what she is connected with. An animal?"  
  
"Maybe it's the birds again," Merry replied, taking a large bite out of his roll. "Blasted things always scatter when we come about."  
  
"Nay, I don't think its that," Pippin replied, standing upon the chair to grab the wine jug. While Gandalf muttered under his breath something in a language Pip did not understand. "Maybe… I don't know rightly what to speculate. Gandalf! You say she speaks in your head. I think you've better speculatin' than me or Merry here."  
  
"True. Yet its hard to pin point directly, for she was once good and therefore its hard to tell a dove from a raven."  
  
George scratched his head, "Are you speaking of the Easter Black Witch Queen?" Apparently, the 3 members of the fellowship did not hear the small, wee-est of wee hobbits. "Are you speaking of the Black Queen?" he asked, timidly, only a little louder. "Excuse me?" Then he stood on his chair and yelled, "EXCUSE ME!!"  
  
The trio ceased their speaking to stare at the small halfling that had made such a loud noise it was hardly recognizable to come from George Gamgee. "Yes, George?"  
  
"I've been her mind," he told them, straightening the vest over his shirt. It had been tussled when he belted with his lungs at such force. They weren't used to it.  
  
Gandalf leaned over the table, "What did you see?"  
  
"I saw…" George skewed his face. "I didn't like it one bit! I saw Mr. Legolas and he was at the center of things, and there were many things pointing at him. Mainly a bloody Grian, and arrows, and swords… And… it wasn't pleasant."  
  
"You," Gandalf breathed. "A little halfling. You were in the greatest Maia of all time's mind. Never the mind she's evil, she's still the greatest. And you, George Gamgee, struck and forced down the walls in her mind?"  
  
George rightened his shoulders, "I was. Very blood drenched thing it is too. Still its golden, it is! And she serving some one else."  
  
"Sauron?"  
  
"No," he shook his head vigorously. "He's no connection with the rings. You keep calling her the black queen, then he would be her king. Rather likes chess, both of them. It seemed like that was how he got hold of her, in the short time I was in there of course. Frightened I was. But, in any case, he got hold of her by a queer chess game."  
  
"Chess…" Gandalf murmured mournfully under his breath.  
  
"Yup! Chess!" George confirmed triumphantly. "And if you're looking to associate her with something, then I suggest dragons. For she's got thousands of them in her mind."  
  
Then Gandalf hit his head, "Why didn't I think of it before! Dragons! Of course!"  
  
"Mr. Legolas said she's in the castle, if you should like to find her, only search the servants' rooms, for she's settled in to the castle I tell you. Very at home with the family. And… she has a sword. Black sword, I think it is."  
  
Gandalf bowed his head. _Of which I gave her. I can not believe my stupidity_ . This entire world had turned _his _precious upside-down, into the world of darkness where she was not bred to dwell. Now, she hated the light and that wasn't how it should be. And she hated the Greenleaf family.   
  
Amaryllis entered the hall, snickering at Gandalf, before telling George, "The King, he's gone to the Great Halls. Dead."  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. All the facts point to… someone! Well, next chapter is going to be a little more… touchy-feely? *grins* So, I won't be unveiling our evil until approximately Chapter 22 or so. Not very long! I can't keep punching these philosophy things out, can you tell I've been degraded to chicken? I had an urge to put it in. *shrugs* That's it! Tootles! Remember to R & R !  
  
E-mail messy@usa.com  



	12. Lessons

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Twelve: Lessons  
  
_The truth is not always a thing that brings about nicety and such. Sometimes, the truth hurts. It hurts deeply, that some people shall ignore for most of their lives, immortal or not, and end up miserable for the remainder when they realize their entire world is based on lies. So is the truth better than the falsity? That is undecided…_  
  
Grian was faithfully curled up at the foot of the bridge waiting when Legolas returned, and she said, "You must be out of breath by now. You've run to meet me here, and you've run back and forth between the castle again. Are you always running Legolas?"  
  
"For you."  
  
She smiled, still blushing and stood dusting off her rear. This should be an interesting session, shouldn't it? Most races would have been deterred by the moonlight, but tonight it shone so brightly, elves saw just a well as they should in the daylight. "…turn your wrist out a bit more so you shan't shoot yourself, what would I be thought of then?"  
  
"You should be thought of the same, I'm just a daft servant elf," she replied, trying to concentrate on the bow, so she would_n't_ shoot herself, as he had warned. Yet, rather hard to concentrate on the present task it was, for she found herself thinking of the closeness of another body and quickly banished the thought. It was far more impure than she could have even imagined!  
  
"I don't think so," he replied. "Draw it back, behind your ears, and… let loose."   
  
Grian bit her lip as the arrow stuck into the ground, "Well, that didn't go very far."  
  
"It takes practice," Legolas replied, leaning on the bow to look at her.   
  
"Compared to 2,931 years, I should say that's a pretty good start," she gave him a playful push onto the ground, before giggling and dashing off. Legolas shook his head, and followed. "Oh, am I to find you in this vast forest of Mirkwood?" he joked.  
  
"Yes!" she cried playfully. "After all, you should know it as well as the oldest eagle."  
  
"I don't like birds much my lady," he replied, searching the trees up and down. Still when he slept at night he was tormented by the dreams and images of the many creatures he'd fought only twenty or so years ago, which by elf standards was but the blink of an eye. Every horrid face he could see, his targets sill in the back of his troubled mind.  
  
He thought he heard a smile. "I don't suppose you would. It would be painful, isn't it?" she reveled and her voice's location changed. "But should you consider the subject further, Mr. Greenleaf, I should say to you that a bird is a magnificent work. She flaps her wings and flies away… if only elves could do such. We lightly may tread on some surfaces that others may not, but to fly… wouldn't that be grand? Just think of it!"  
  
"I suppose so," he replied searching a large oak tree. "Where are you?"  
  
"Right behind you," she replied coyly.   
  
_Damn women! So enticing…_Legolas thought, swiveling around to find nothing.  
  
_Oh are you attached to this new love Mr. Greenleaf? Should I kill her for you? I'm sure I could! How should you like that?_ The evil voice returned to his mind once again and Legolas shut his eyes he should ignore her. _ Oh you think that will do it, do you? I think you're wrong, because I will defeat you and this weakling you call Grian, for she has a mission to destroy me…Take this Legolas Greenleaf! And remember, my fun is only but beginning… _  
  
A searing pain shot through-out his limbs, so fierce that he fell to his knees, gasping for air. Another hand touched his shoulder and he found Grian's eyes full of fright gazing into his, "Legolas, are you alright? What happened?"  
  
"Nothing," he gritted through his teeth. "Nothing to be concerned about, I suppose."  
  
_Foolish lad,_ the Black Queen laughed. _Trying to protect her, are you? It's a beautiful thing: love._  
  
"Is it that awful queen again?" she inquired.  
  
"Yes," he replied.  
  
"Then I think I should be concerned about you," she replied, sitting cross-legged in front of him.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
A slight small came upon Legolas, as the pain receded. "That would be kind of you, my lady. Should I be in your favor then?"  
  
She cocked an eyebrow, "Of course, Legolas. Should you have me cheer on your enemies? For I assure you I can do that, but I long to see the Black Queen dead just as much as you should."  
  
Legolas reached forward and removed a leaf from her hair, as she opened her hands and he dropped it in her palms. With the slight whisper of her lips, it broke into a million golden specs of light. "I suppose you learned that from your father as well," he leapt to his feet and offered a hand.  
  
Taking it cautiously, she was whipped to her feet in a short time even for a light-footed elf, "I did."  
  
"Should you be able to show me?"  
  
" 'Once you have tasted the secrets, you will have a strong desire to understand them'," was all she replied and he took it as a light 'no'. In truth, if she was emotionally attached her father as she seemed, he would not plead further. "You once asked if I should sing at the Beltane Festival. And you?"  
  
"I'm but an amateur singer, my lady, I should not like to turn myself red in front of my sovereignty," he replied. "But I frequent the festival."  
  
She smiled, and tried not to look at his hand. He hadn't let go yet, she longed to look upon it, but feared he should think of it as a doubtful action. "So you enjoy the listening? Perhaps dancing?"  
  
"Listening yes, but dancing I've not tried in a thousand years," he replied with every bit of truth he had in him. "My lady, if you would allow me, in South Mirkwood they hold a festival in these fortnights—"  
  
"The Festivities of Mirth!" a ray of light over came her face.  
  
He looked at the fallen golden dust on the ground, "Yes, the Festivities of Mirth—I was thinking of traveling on the morrow's night about to the different celebrations… should you like to come?"  
  
Her face dropped with surprise. Such a high offer that was! Accompanying the soon-to-be crowned king of Mirkwood inviting her on such a journey. "Yes."  
  
"Meet me in the stables at dusk, and I promise I shall come," he told her. "And if you may, bring a sword. Evil lurks in my forests these days."  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. You like? Okay… I don't know who said that quote but its not mine. Leggie in love. *sigh* Oh well, on to complete the next chapter!  
  
E-Mail Ya got a beef? E-mail me! messy@usa.com   
  



	13. Mirth

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Thirteen: Mirth  
  
_Love is a splendid thing. It is the very idea that sets so many of elves, hobbits, and men alike free from pain. But love must always come at a price. For many who leave those who raised them with goodness, they fear the outside world. And sometimes love can be one's own destruction as well. It can be the very thing that makes one evil, if it is denied, but can evil love?_  
  
Amaryllis scowled at the dead king. She had hated him, and loved him at the same time. If he had not been so gullible after the loss of his wife to the orcs. Sometimes she wondered if she herself should become an Orc, but that fear had been taken from her as she raised her only son—Legolas Greenleaf. She hated to defeat him, but he should never know his real power if he didn't.   
  
The elf swept out of the mausoleum.   
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"I need to borrow a sword, Master Istan. Please, just for one night," Grian pleaded. "Legolas asked me to bring one."  
  
Suddenly, the master of this forge stopped the grindstone, "You are on those terms with the king?"  
  
She looked at the fire, and took a deep breath, replying, "He is not a king yet, nor did he wish the duty upon himself. As far as I can see, since his father had fallen sick he's not had any sort of company, and furthermore, asked me to call him Legolas."  
  
"I've not heard such a strong statement from you yet, my lassie," he chuckled. "It should be good for the master. Yes it should!" The dwarf went searching through his room of weapons. "I've this." He offered a sword with an eccentric taste to it she did not like—it was not large enough to do any harm in one blow. Not thick enough. "Well, then, I've only daggers. I thought you had a sword."  
  
"Yes, but, it would look suspicious Master Istan," she told the dark-haired dwarf. "I mean, most of Mirkwood is not as used to Easterners as this castle."  
  
"I may offer you daggers then," he replied throwing her two, followed by two more. Then leather binding to tie around her legs. "That's a fair spot for a lady an' I suppose you'll look just as pretty for the lord."  
  
She smiled. "And I suppose that should be a good thing. I best be going, Master Istan. I thank you! I shall return them upon dawn." And the dwarf smiled, she was destined to be a good companion for Master Legolas, hopefully more…  
  
Grian rushed through the castle and out the gates—into the stables. The stable-master cracked a grin, it wasn't quite dusk yet but she was an elf intent on being on time. "He's already here," he nodded at her. "In there."  
  
Biting the bottom of her lip she entered, as Legolas slid a bridle over a white horse's head. "Oh hullo!" he smiled down at her. "Should you have… daggers? No sword?"  
  
_A little paranoid aren't we Mr. Greenleaf?_ The voice smirked in his head. _You should be. I will destroy you and the thing called Grian. Completely destroy you both. Because you are one are you not? If you do not exist, neither shall Grian, and should she not exist where would you be? Dying of broken heart like your father…__  
_  
"No, Master Istan only had such a strange thing. Very thin and flimsy, I prefer something of a battle sword. Those things… I've never mastered them," she put her foot on a box, strapping the leather on her leg. "This should do, if need be."  
  
He nodded and handed her a set of reins, "Have you been to the Festivities before?"  
  
"Nay, I've only heard of them," she said and mounted up, before he could even offer her assistance. "And remember I came here from east, Legolas, I'm no amateur in equestrian related matters…"  
  
They rode on over the main Old Forest Road at a gallop, and arrived in the first village with the train of Grian's great dress swirling to catch up. A few kegs lined the edge of the clearing, a bonfire in the center roared, and the maypole was colorfully wound. "So are we party hopping Legolas?"  
  
"Do you like to dance? You mentioned it on our previous meeting," he asked, not exactly an answer to her question, but close enough.   
  
His out-stretched, offering hand was inviting, and she took grasp of it, "I love to dance and I should figure out your Western dances soon enough."  
  
As soon as whispers should begin in one party, they'd hop upon the steeds and gallop to the next, as the Festivities of Mirth were celebrated in small villages mostly. The dying farmer elves, with generally was left to hobbits. "That's the Prince of Mirkwood," mothers should whisper to their children. "He is soon to be king."  
  
"Then who is the lady?" Often the children's question should be.  
  
"Why, I'd say that should be the Prince of Mirkwood's beloved, if I should not know better," the mothers would then go into a flourish of gossip, and it would be the signal for the two to swing off the dance floor.   
  
The elves merry. Some bought their merriment at the kegs, having a bit more to drink than was actually necessary. Some bought it in the glorious and jubilant arts. And some simply inhaled it with the night, from being with their dear ones, and their loves. Many a elven eternities were ruined and many were made into many days to come of happiness.   
  
And at one moment, Grian sang:   
  
_"Ride on, through the night, ride on__  
__Ride on, through the night, ride on…"_  
  
Drums beat fast in Legolas' ears and he grabbed Grian amidst the dances of spring. His heart was wretched from his body and twisted by the dark forces until his tight grip nearly crushed her. "Grian…" he choked. "They're here."  
  
_Should you have me let him go Grian? Would you like me to? Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…_  
  
_STOP!!!_ Grian yelled, and Legolas sighed in relief. It was gone. The drums. The drums! They weren't leaving his mind, now they closed in upon his ear. "Orcs," he gulped. "I hate orcs." Taking her arm, he dragged her towards their horses.  
  
"But you can't leave these people here to die!" Grian cried.  
  
Legolas looked at her queerly, "I was going to get my bow, my lady, and I've no intention of losing you along the way."  
  
A sudden rip sounded through the canvas of a tent, and the orcs appeared. Elves screamed, mothers hid their children, and Legolas Greenleaf, King of Mirkwood, took his aim. But these were not just orcs! Saruman's Uruk-hai also rose from them, their great shoulders over-reaching the tallest of elves. And he let his arrow loose.   
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Our heroes in peril! *faints* Leggie likes Grian *dances around* Wait! I should know I wrote the durn thing. Humph. Oh well. R & R!  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
  



	14. Night Ride

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Fourteen: Night Ride  
  
_History is often learned so many do not make the same mistakes again, or so the professors of such say. Many of the mistakes made through history are repeated, for it is a never-ending cycle. This is true for mortal but what of immortals? They do not die so how is history to repeat itself, for they are history itself but also are the present…_  
  
Elven-men took up their swords and staves as the women for their live. "Foolish," Grian commented to one but herself as she grabbed a dagger from the side of her leg. "They should have been a great help." She lied not, elven-women no matter what Elrond said were just as capable of battle as Elven-men—if not more so. But feat held a tight chain over their slaves, and so they fled. "If I did not know better, my lord, I would say you should have predicted this."  
  
"I suspect and nothing more," Legolas replied letting two arrows find their targets.   
  
One orc approached and looked at Grian strangely before raising his blade, a dagger lodged itself in his skull and Grian began her rampage. Legolas' eyebrows raised, quiet ones always were dangerous. She came upon an Uruk-hai. "Bastard," she hissed and slit his throat grabbing the sword that dropped from his limp, ugly, wretched hand. She shifted it in her hand a brief moment, the darkness nearly consumed her. Giving a cry from the pain on her shoulder, an orc fell away with three arrows in his back. Taking her place into consideration, she swept and Legolas gulped as the orcs fell around her. "Legolas," the hissed in a dreadful chant, following the archer like metal follows magnet.   
  
Amaryllis watched from her horse in the shadows of the woods. She pointed her sword at Grian, "I shall get you, Grian." Then re-sheathed the shining object, steering her horse to the East.  
_  
__There are visions, there are memories__  
__There are echoes of thundering hooves__  
__There are fires, there is laughter__  
__There's the sound of a thousand doves…_  
  
"Grian, they follow only us," Legolas grabbed her. A single horse had been stolen, killed, or otherwise in the blind terror. Reduced as they were to one, they felt fortunate elves rode lightly. "Let us lead them away from this village."  
  
She jumped atop his steed, and Legolas was not far behind. Giving a whistle, he waved like a mad-man at the herd, and they ran. Urging his horse forward, he bent over Grian—galloping on into the night. She cringed.   
_  
__"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…" __  
_  
Legolas looked down, and upon her bare shoulder a wound glowing green prevailed. "Poison. Magic poison."  
  
"It is a scratch," she replied. "If the fool knew better, he would know you must strike an artery of the body near the surface. Quiet."  
  
The army followed closely and Legolas felt his heart beat faster. For an unfathomable reason, he believed Grian needed to live more than he. Blind. He tightened his grasp on the reins, and pulled her closer, after all she was nearly small enough to fall away from him.  
  
Her words danced upon the wind,  
_  
__"In the velvet of the darkness__  
__By the silhouette of silent trees__  
__They are watching, they are waiting__  
__They are witnessing life's mysteries."_  
  
Smiling despite the perilous situation he whispered in her ear the words of the verse that was to follow…  
_  
__"Cascading stars on the slumbering hills__  
__They are dancing as far as the sea__  
__Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand__  
__Leading on to its destiny."__  
_  
His heart raced nearly as fast the horse below him, and felt Grian's breathing become hard and coarse, so unlike her. She was delicate, or well, had been until he seen her fight. Blood didn't daunt her. Once again however she had returned to the fragile being, and he saw fit, as the royal heir and soon to be King of Mirkwood, to protect her. She licked her parched lips as came upon the road. Of all things, she reached, and jerked the horse to a stop.   
  
"Grian!" he cried hoarsely the wind had stolen much of his breath and carried it to the East.  
  
She began murmuring a sacred chant with her arms circling in the cyclone's fuery around each other before she halted them, and her eyes narrowed. All was still for the moment 'til those eyes he had seen as so delicate flared, and her right arm, poised as before shot out toward the orcs. The herd of beasts screamed in despair as canyons to hell trapped them on a pitiless island. "So tired," she murmured.   
  
And Legolas murmured some ancient of his own. An arrow full of any destruction he had been able to reap from his old mind shot across the forest, a great explosion consecutively following. The enemy screamed in agony, and writhed in their pain while they were blown away. Suddenly Grian's eyes rolled heavenward, and she dropped to the ground.   
  
  
  
Legolas rode harder than he ever believed possible to his castle, a castle in the trees. The healer's eyes widened as he carried her in. Nothing in his vast medicine cabinet could save this ancient one, and she was an ancient. So he bid Legolas sit with her, and forbade them from entering the castle. Such a terrible disease should not be spread.  
  
_"Take me with you on this journey__  
__Where the boundaries of time are now tossed__  
__In cathedrals of the forest__  
__In the words of the tongues now lost__  
__  
__Find the answers, ask the questions__  
__Find the roots of an ancient tree__  
__Take me dancing, take me singing__  
__I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea…"_  
  
Her sleep fitful, her scar healed in a matter of moments upon his first utterance of the words, and all he could do was sit by ad watch. Pippin came in a bit later, sitting by his old friend, munching on an apple, yet though not by appearance—Pip was quite worried. It was not like Legolas who cherished life ever the more to kill his horse and not care. Should the young master be in love? Love was grand, yet blind, Pippin knew. Her beauty surpassed even Rosie's…  
  
Suddenyl her eyes flipped open with her lip up-curled lunged for Legolas. The eyes she possessed were not her own but blood red of evil, one possessed by on other—Sauron. "Grian!' Legolas said grabbing her wrists. He was not afraid of the hall of the dead, and he had been in this predicament before. Was she too possessed by the Black Queen?  
  
"Oh!" she dropped her hands and covered her face, sobbing. "I should not practice such high magic and things, I go mad! Mad!"  
  
Pippin assured she had been but dreaming, slipped away as Legolas wrapped his arms around her. Perhaps now was a quite opportune time for a late night snack with Amaryllis. She made the best biscuits outside the Shire!  
  
"I…I…"  
  
Legolas kissed her forehead tenderly. "It is forgivable, my lady." Grian's heart skipped a beat._ NO!_ her head screamed. _You mustn't! You mustn't! You mustn't feel such at his touch, you mustn't think such thoughts, you mustn't fall in love! Handsome, yes, but so persistent, tender, so awar_ e, so kind, so determined… quit it! Never must you! He is a kind an will be a ring bearer in time. I mustn't.   
  
A voice tore her away from her own thoughts and back into the world of the physical, "What is wrong?"  
  
"No!" she whispered, scrambling away to a chair on the side of the bed. Then relaxed. _What am I worried for?_ "I-I…" She stood and began pacing, his arm stopped her. Her heart sighed and she fell into a sweet embrace that she had not felt for so long. "Legolas, I…"  
  
"Grian," he looked at her, and pulled her up to look her in the eye. Her eyes cast downward and he took her chin his hand raising it up. When the first rose in Mirkwood, blossomed, Legolas leaned toward Grian, the mystery of the East.  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. ^.^ I mean to torture y'all. 'Specially me good friend Lady Une. ^.^ Sorry Union. Anywhosers…Grian ain't like me at all. No. No. Never! *twiddles thumbs* I love feedback and oddly enough flames, so please help the cause! Danke!  
  
Disclaimer I don't own the song. Loreena McKennitt does. Night Ride Across the Caucasus on her Book of Secrets album. Actual inspiration for chapter! ^.^  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  



	15. George Attacks

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Fifteen: George Attacks!  
  
_Can the smallest being make all the difference? The answer has been proven time and time again, and as it seems every time man fails to fulfill his duty. For they desire power the very most, and thus have 9 rings. The dwarves 7. Now, of elves, for they are wise, they were given 3. Many things come in threes, in fact, in ancient texts there's a book of the triad which gives three for each subject. Gandalf the Grey, the wisest of the Maia has studied this book and recites its wisdom occasionally. __  
__  
__Is Gandalf the Grey an elf? Such a question should arise to the mind when one learns he has one of the three great rings—the ring of fire. Galadriel too possesses a ring. But where is the third? And should one die, or grow tired of their duties, who is there to inherit such a thing? __  
__  
__As a soul may see, Gandalf's history lays somewhat in question. But what of one without a soul?_  
  
Gandalf scratched his beard thoughtfully. If the Black Queen resided in the castle it was possible she had infiltrated long ago and created trust with the Greenleafs and their many servants. It was possible he did not recognize her at all, they'd spent so many years apart…   
  
He had heard of the orc and the midnight ride of Mirth. Party-hopping. Legolas was more like his father than he realized, Thranduil always had liked the Mirth Festivities. "Hmm…" Gandalf squinted, puffing furiously on his pipe. "Hmmm…"  
  
It could also be assumed the orcs came for Legolas as the Black Queen had promised. Herds upon herd of orcs in her care… such could prove disastrous. Damn woman. The east was full of corruption and he set it in his mind never to travel there. "Well, we should actually see Legolas soon!" Pippin chimed.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"His _friend_, just friend mind you, has awoken," Pippin reported dutifully. "She's awful pretty she is. Matches Rosie Cottonwood-Gamgee she does." A stick knocked him on the head and Gandalf chuckled. "Ouch! George!" Didn't his father teach him to respect his elders? What was Sam coming to now-a-days?  
  
"Don't you speak about me Mum like that! She's married to my da she is! Not you Peregrin Took so distance your wandering eyes."  
  
"George," Gandalf grabbed the hobbit setting him in a chair beside himself. If his concentration was not set upon defeating evil he would have chortled or at least given George a smile, but not today, his focus had not wavered since dawn. "George—you say she screamed because she could not get in your mind?"  
  
"I suppose so Mr. Gandalf, I've got things to do about you know…"  
  
"Some things are more important than other, as you will learn little Master Gamgee. At the moment," Gandalf sighed. "I think saving the world is far more important than the dishes."  
  
George looked down into his lap, twiddling his thumbs. He rather liked doing simple thing, but supposed if need be he would perform to a hero's standard. That ought to fetch him a beautiful hobbit-maiden, shouldn't it? But would such a lady be satisfied with a gardener for a husband? He rather liked plants and flowers, such a beautiful and enticing thing they were. "Well, Mr. Gandalf, sir," George gulped the terror in the back of his throat down again. Hobbits well-adapt themselves to positions such as this. "What should you have me do?"  
  
"Well, young master Gamgee," Gandalf leaned back in his chair. "I need to convince her in her mind she is to appear. Can you do that George?"  
  
The young hobbit stammered, twiddling his thumbs about, "Well, I-I-I, well… oh dear… I should try I suppose. Though I be likin' none of them fancy tricks, mind you."  
  
Gandalf chuckled to himself, but returned to his pipe buried in the realms of unforgiving thought. Trouble upon them worried him greatly and that he should have to call upon an inexperienced halfling to do a job he himself should undertake, but he couldn't force himself to do such a thing. It would pain him to actually kill her, he could lead others to it, but never he himself raise the sword. And her disposition did not help matters any. She appeared when darkness surrounded them.   
  
When should the darkness envelope them?  
  
  
  
George Gamgee felt rather frightened as he sat in the chair waiting to become a hero. Maybe, just perhaps his father would object to such things then he would be saved. However, Mr. Gandalf had not believed him on such terms so here he sat waiting to defeat the Black Queen.   
  
_Um… oh dear,_ the voice was murmuring as he entered her mind unnoticed. _This shouldn't be happening. _  
  
_I should appear_, George thought, just as Gandalf had directed.   
  
_I should, you know?_ The Black Queen confirmed his comments she mistook for her own. _I should I really should, then this wouldn't be so painful. I wouldn't be putting myself in such danger of being discovered. Wait… this does not sound like me. Is there some one in my mind, a chroí? Is that you again?_  
  
George through his good hobbit-sense remained quiet.  
  
_I am imagining things. Ouch! Why do I have such pain in my mind? At any rate it should be a good thing to appear now, to let them see the person that tortures them. But, I shouldn't torture them. Wait! This is me I speak of. What? I… I should not be thinking I should keep an elven prince around just because he looks handsome! Who knows what his heart contains? And what does it matter to me?_  
  
George broke away and hid his face. "You shouldn't intrude upon people's minds Mr. Gandalf its very rude! Who knows what they may be thinking of! You've not seen what I seen Mr. Gandalf-sir. It was unseemly things."  
  
Gandalf raised an eyebrow, still puffing on his pipe. "Of what do you speak?"  
  
"Of the image of Lord Legolas she had."  
  
Gandalf scratched his beard. Interesting wasn't that? Very interesting.   
  
.-*-.   
  
A.N. Kisses and hugs to all that review! I really like feedback! I'm paranoid about this becoming a mary-sue so… as said previously, if you think it is: TELL ME. Okay. I'll shut up.   
  
E-Mail Confused? I explain. Send questions to: messy@usa.com   
  



	16. Red Roses

Dragon Witch   
By Nezumi  
Chapter Sixteen: Red Roses  
  
_So many records are kept, yet so little of them are personalized by some societies. However, in other societies the records are only of human accord and never of history. Which is better, one may ask. Neither, the response of the wise should be, for you must have a balance of fact and emotion to go with the past. Having too much or too little of each would result in unhappiness, and the people of the future and past would reside in the darkest chambers of the human heart…_  
  
The party of escorts looked upon the elves of Lórien whispering to each other in the protected circle. Arwen and Aragorn sat facing each other by the creek alone, as desired. "Why should you agreed to come along, my lady?" he inquired.  
  
"Because everyone does need adventure in their life, don't you know Aragorn?" she replied dipping her hands in the water to drink from the rippling stream. "This doesn't taste like water…"   
  
Aragorn dipped his finger in the water, placing it upon his tongue and his eyes widened, "It is poisoned! Do you feel light-headed?"  
  
Laughing, Arwen kissed his cheek sweetly, smiling, "I would not. You forget, my king, you're in the company of elves."  
  
Taking her by the hand in the most gentle way possible, he bowed as if they were preparing to dance, "I do, but there is always is the fairest of them to set me upon the right path again." She spun into his arms with a wink. "And of all this adventure it would suit me just as well to sit and read a book."  
  
"Much like Frodo I suppose," she grinned, examining one of his rings. "It has occurred to me that I will be fighting my aunt and that is why she hates Elrond so very much, you know."  
  
"You'll be fighting your aunt? Who?"  
  
Arwen just shrugged, "I am supposed to know. And until she feels she is ready to reveal herself, then I will not interfere though she does hunt you."  
  
Aragorn shook his head, as Arwen placed her arms around his neck, "She hunts me? Is poisoning a river hunting? Hunting is coming after me."  
_  
__But I am coming after you,_ a voice laughed at him. _Whether or not I chose to reveal my physical self to you, doesn't matter. I seek you life, isn't that hunting? Elrond is a fool, when he could have changed the course of history—he chose not to. He chose not to slay your ancestor, my dear King of Gondor, but I will slay you for what he could not. _  
  
"So she has a personal event with your father?"  
  
She smiled, kissing him. Her knowledge escaped him and she would keep the facts safe. Whether or not this new evil would physically reveal herself to them was uncertain, however she did know she must retrieve Gimli of the Lonely Mountain from his torment. "Yes, they do."  
  
  
  
Grian tripped, as was a usual occurrence in her life, until a hand caught hers. "Thank you," she murmured softly. "I can't ever keep my feet about me."  
  
"Except when slitting someone's throat," he smiled down at her.  
  
Her cheeks turned red with embarrassment and she shielded her eyes, "It's the way we do things in the east. I need to get some more sleep… I…"  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"Stay a while," Legolas held her arm. "Amaryllis knows you were injured, and I'll tell her I kept you tonight…"  
  
"That makes no matter upon her decisions," Grian stated bitterly and covered her mouth once again. "And it isn't in your best interest to love me, it isn't good for you at all!" _You shouldn't,_ she thought to herself and wishing she could deter him with out giving herself and her love away. _You shouldn't for you do not know me as well as you think. I am dangerous, you have seen that last night. I have survived a poisoned arrow when I should be dead doesn't that strike you as odd Legolas? Please tell it does._   
  
"But I do," he stated. The wind whispered through the palace in the early dawn as she closed her eyes. "Don't light the torches."   
  
"You should not know what I am thinking."  
  
"I don't have need to search your mind to know what you're thinking."  
  
_This is endless, and to Ring of Vilya, to the Ring of Nenya, to Narya, I swear this shouldn't be. But I want it to be and I know it will only hurt in the end when he knows he abandon me,_ she cried in her mind. _But I will love you until the end of time, and we have eternity, but soon we will part and soon you will have to stop loving me. _"That is a comforting thought."  
  
"Is it?" he asked. "I shall walk you to your rooms, if you wish. You seem to have lost most of the color in your cheeks."  
  
She gulped, "Alright."   
_  
__"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Making a hurried rush toward the main castle, his hand held her back, "Do you ever stop to watch the sun rise? Or smell the Liebora flowering? Or to receive a rose?" He held a red, blossoming flower out to her and she daintly took it. The flower of love, seconded by only the Leibora, had been snapped quickly, so he could give her a surprise he remembered from his daily watchings of Beltane.   
  
"Flowers are beautiful, you know," she smiled down into. "Especially roses. They blossom with light, and sometimes without. No barriers are barriers, for they can twist and bind around them."   
  
Legolas followed her in silence as their feet pattered down the grand hallways. She tread lightly as usual, and he noticed she'd long removed her shoes and walked in bare feet while his boots, though made of soft leather, seemed to break the tranquility. "I should leave you, but I do not want to," he replied, catching her hand before she could disappear into the room. "Not yet."  
  
"But—"  
  
"Grian," he said softly and pressed his lips against hers in a tend kiss. While she had been utterly surprised earlier, at the moment she seemed to relax and place her arms around his neck. "I will see you tonight then?"  
  
"If it is for the dinner, perhaps," she replied and slipped mysteriously into her room.   
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. Okay, so I suck at writing Aragorn/Arwen mushy stuff and generally suck at the mush mush all together, but I tried because I really like Aragorn/Arwen together! ^.^ Anyway, Celebrian I learned is Arwen's mother (thus making her dead) so… um… Celebrian travels with them in spirit. R & R! Especially thanks to "The Silver Lady" She put me on her favorites list! Yay! ^.^   
  
Disclaimer -.-' Why must I go over this again?  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com   
  



	17. Dragon

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Seventeen: Dragon  
  
_We all are so different and yet the same. Many beings who hate each other to the last bone are so alike they themselves cannot see such. Mostly the two sides are too stubborn to see such. They hold each other in contempt until their deaths, regretting it. However, complete opposites often fight as well, yet they also attract. So couldn't it be concluded the enemy be loved as well?_  
  
Legolas smiled as his nurse elf, whom he'd loved dearly since the day he had been entrusted in her care, sharpened her sword. Amaryllis and Grian may not like each other, he smiled, but he supposed there was reason—both were so different. Grian so quiet, and Amaryllis always had been out spoken and boyish almost. "Amaryllis why do you hate Grian so much?"  
  
The elf looked up, "There is something that 'tisn't right about her I swear to you." She truthfully did have a soft spot for Legolas and had let her heart slip into the young elf's hands, unknowingly to him of course. She intended to keep it that way. It wasn't so good to get attached to one who was likely to die.   
  
"Why are you sharpening your sword?"  
  
The sun was sucked below the horizon, as if disappearing from their eyes, and George Gamgee ran up to Legolas breathing hard. He'd run—as usual. "My lord! My lord! An army from the east! An army from the west!"  
  
"You make no sense George," he stated, inclining an eyebrow.  
  
"I may not, but there's so mighty PISSED OFF dwarves storming towards THIS establishment and I want someone to protect the DAMN THING. And there's them orcs comin' from the east and Lady Galadriel is set to arrive!"  
  
Amaryllis looked at Legolas, and told him, "Simply? That's why."  
  
The castle turned into an uproar the weapon smith just shook his head solemnly and went to protecting his masonry. Gandalf the Grey sat on the roof with Pippin and Merry, shaking his head, "I'll get her I will."  
  
"Get who?" Pippin asked.  
  
"The witch. She's the cause of all this! Black Queen why shan't you reveal yourself to me?"  
  
_Oh I shall,_ the voice said. _Should like a form that you can shoot Gandalf the Gutless? Or should you like me in person? I see which desire more, so I shall send myself to you, in that form. _Pausing briefly as Gandalf cursed her name, she began again._ Of course I caused the war between elves and dwarves, everyone needs a little chaos. You taught me that so well. _  
  
Merry suddenly dropped his roll, "Um, Gandalf? We have a slight difficulty here…"  
  
"Yes?" he whipped around, and the hobbit pointed up. "Dragon? Where'd it come from?" The man reached for his staff, slightly frightened, hoping sincerely it was not the witch herself. Fear was a valid feeling, for it was her power that could destroy him and this entire world. It would if Galadriel did not appear soon, for they couldn't hold this enemy at bay much longer. Further more, it seemed to him that she was but taunting them like a child does to the puppy with a biscuit.  
  
The air seemed bloody as the elves poured from the walls, dwarves gave war bellows that so many of their friends knew too well. The sliver of the crescent moon streamed down from the heavens onto the proclaimed battlefield, and three forces collided at one point. Legolas grimaced as he saw atop the great pony sat his best friend, and he whispered closing his eyes, "It is true then, she has taken your mind."  
  
  
  
Haldir the elected scout of the party rode ahead to find, overlooking the palace of Mirkwood a battle waged. Elves, dwarves, and oddly enough orcs. _"Orcs_," he whispered, vehemence raging in his voice. "I've got to stop Galadriel." _Do not worry my huntsmen, I know,_ Galadriel whispered to him in his mind. _And I know who's causing it. Help whichever side you should chose, but keep in mind that Gimli and the rest of the dwarves are quite possessed by this evil we face. And watch the axe being thrown at your head_. The elf ducked as such an object seared over his head, and galloped into the herd of orcs, shooting as he went before loosing the steed. "Legolas," he breathed climbing the walls to the window in which his friend stood. "At least shoot the orcs."  
  
"I should know who she is, but I can't figure her out!" the king of Mirkwood shook his head, dismayed. "She's under my nose! And she's mocking me."  
  
"Forget the Black Queen, kill her army," Haldir hissed. "Or the dragon that's trying to kill the Narya ring bearer! Elrond sent a scroll you really need to see, as well…"  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"__  
_  
"You curse this ground," he told the dragon. "Who do you think you are?"  
  
In an ancient rumble Gandalf and the Firstborn alone could decipher, the golden dragon spoke in a grand, rolling voice its firey amber eyes piercing the Maia, "_I think I am gold only because you made me so._"  
  
Pippin with all his blind courage, did not stand still, he grabbed a rock and threw it squarely at the dragon between the eyes, it hissed turning to him. "Gandalf! Its-its-its got Mr. Elrond's RING!"  
  
The dragon smiled, if dragon's could smile, the glittering scales nearly blinding, and turned to its maker, "_Gandalf, you taught almost all I know—_ "  
  
_"I never taught you to be brutal_."  
  
"_Nay, not directly, but you were the cause_," the dragon replied. "_ Give me Narya. Give me fire!_"   
  
"You may suck my soul from my body, but I'll never give you Narya!" Gandalf replied and as the dragon shot the firey blow of which was directed to scorch his skin he reflected it with a rubied ring, and the orcs below screamed in agony as their skin and armor fire. The dragon hissed and disappeared into thin air with a great cry of defeat, but it retained that it would seek revenge.   
  
The dwarves suddenly pulled back from the elves and Gimli signaled, with his axe to retreat towards his mountain fortress. Legolas hit his head, the arrows that came from his bow struck one dwarf—probably innocent, never hunting elves before this queen had corrupted their poor minds. "What do you bring?"  
  
"This scroll that contains information on a ring not forged with other three elven, but one forged by dwarves for the elves in mockery," Haldir replied. "And this ring, long forgotten had found its way into Lothlórien, but sadly Elrond was not aware of this. Oddly enough as well, the strain has taken on Elrond's mind, he failed to mention that his ring—Vilya—has been stolen from his hand."  
  
Drawing down the scroll, he followed it with his eyes very carefully, "The Ring of Spirits. It controls Valinor."  
  
"Yes," Haldir nodded solemnly.  
  
"Who has it?"  
  
"The Black Queen. And if it gives you any clues, I should tell you that upon the ring-bearer's own free will she has resurrected Celebrian."  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. This is the explanation of Celebrian traveling with them. I decided I was going to put a new twist on the story. Anyways, flame me, compliment me, or give me constructive criticism (I really like that! ^.^) 'Kay? Thank ya all!   
  
Disclaimer -.- Bite me.  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  
Written on February 11th, 2002! The only reason that matters is that its me good friend Lady Une's birthday! She wants people to review her stories too!   
  



	18. Preparing the Party

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Eighteen: Preparing the Party  
  
_If someone should control all the world, would they not eventually become overcome with boredom? Such would strike as to set someone free perhaps? Or would it only be a cause for more death and destruction upon the ruler's part? Maybe, maybe not. No one is quite certain, only that too much power to one person would cause madness and the destruction of the earth._  
  
"Grían?" Legolas asked, grabbing an elf breathing hard. "Is that you?"  
  
"Yes," she replied, looking up at the green eyes she wished she did not know so well. "I should go clean…"  
  
"Only yourself?" he asked hopefully. "I still should like to see you again tonight. Please?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I… don't know."  
  
"Alright," she replied readily and he caught her hand and kissed her before she could escape again. She always did seem to be afraid of something he possessed, but neither could put their finger on it, especially as her hands pressed against his chest. Breathlessly she amended, "Perhaps I don't need to…"  
  
"Just perhaps…?"   
  
  
  
Beltane Festival honored a goddess too great for any of Mirkwood to imagine. Lovers frolicked in the Mother's womb while the birds chirped their song and the servants sang in synchronization. Grand preparation were made for the castle grounds, as it was the center of the hub. But this year, it would most certainly be different than y ears past.   
  
In previous years, the mood had been light and carefree—however the children still had nightmares, their fathers sharpened their swords, and the elven women wept tears. The battle with the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain remained fresh in all immortal minds and fear prevailed. Beltane would be prepared as usual, everything would happen in the exact same fashion as before, with the exception of the dwarves.   
  
Many Quendi had lost their dear ones in the battle—dwarf or elf one would not ask and one would not say. But muffle solemnity ran like rivers of tears the women cried through Mirkwood's twisted and tortured roads.  
  
Tents, sparkling with elven tapestries were pulled to full height and garlands of flowers hung among the trees to welcome spring. Color dotted the woods and Legolas, the King of Mirkwood whom had previously enjoyed the festival in his near 3,000 years remained somber.  
  
Amaryllis over watched the servants making certain nothing went amiss. She certainly did not want Lord Legolas to believe anything at all had spun out of control that no evil was about. But she wondered how long she could mask him from this and his fate. It pained her, she saw his face in her mind before she slept each night with tears of agony running down her face. She had raised him from his childhood, and refused to see his life fall to the first beautiful maiden to approach him. Outrageous, she said.  
  
"No! Grian!" the elder elf hissed. "I know your little secret and you know you have to leave. You know you must break his heart like a twig. I know why you're here and you won't succeed—I'll see to that."   
  
"You can't stop me and you cannot stop him. Love goes as it pleases."  
  
"I thought you did not love Grian. What's more you'll soon be discovered. Our Lady Galadriel will put a stop to this nonsense. And Gandalf will put an end to you. He doesn't like the way Legolas acts of late," Amaryllis informed her. "You'd better not beat me in that dance competition. I have won for so many years now that if you were to beat me, I might have to punish in some way."  
  
Grian gulped. Such a thing as this would not fare very well on her already suffering health. _He should stop loving me_, she thought running form the seemingly evil elf right into the elf whom who was being debated. Mr. Greenleaf's arms caught her voluntarily.   
  
Torrents of wind swirled in the spring air, the tents flew up to kiss the sky, and the world upon her fall came to complete tranquility. Hell transformed into heaven in one mere second as Legolas Greenleaf out-stretched a hand to offer his assistance to the temptress who had captured his heart—if he could he would sell his soul to be with her for their eternities—of every hour, of every minute, of every second.   
  
Shaking her head, Amaryllis walked away. This would be harder than she thought. She alone could bring about Grian's downfall, whether or not it broke Legolas should not be of her concern.   
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"Thank you," Grian supplied as her love whooshed her off to the river.  
  
Scowling she traveled to her rooms again—they were as grand as the king's himself. Legolas held her close to his heart surely, but he would never guess this new fact. She felt so horrible for hating Lothlórien, a place in which he loved, and she felt guilty for this plotting against people for her own needs, but soon she would forget it.   
  
An attack would strike at Beltane, of this Amaryllis was quite sure, but knew not if the dwarves would attack. She thought they might—for elves held the joy of Beltane close to their hearts and war set itself upon the mission of misery. Dwarves danced in this as if it were a delight.   
  
Rolling up her sleeve she traced the dragon and told it, "I will avenge you. Master Draekon." And she looked up—battle raging in her eyes.  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N. We're very close to revealing the queen! Yay! R & R!  
  
Disclaimer -.- We've gone over this. Don't sue me. Comprende?  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com   
  



	19. A Nighean Donn' S Toigh Leam Thu

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Nineteen: Nil Sí I nGrá  
  
_History of all the great peoples have been expressed through art. Art of the lips, singing where sweet words escape one's lips, or perhaps art of the feet—dancing. The last are the murals and tapestries of these people who think they will be forgotten but the physical remains even when the echo's of the race's last songs have been forgotten. The torch the dancers and musicians carry is not know to those whom have not heard a glorious note of orchestrated noise. Music may however set one free or bind them in everlasting chains…__  
_  
"Legolas… I won't get this. Its too… _majestic _for me."   
  
"Too majestic for you?" he whispered in her ear and guided her aim. She had small rough hands, her fingers were strong as was her grip, her nails soiled, but they too seemed as beautiful as her small face. The black hair waved into beauty, in which in his own mind even Galadriel did not surpass. George Gamgee claimed Sam told Rosie Cottonwood-Gamgee such as that one and the she-hobbit had bee graced by such a comment. "You could not be surpassed in majesty by Galadriel herself."   
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Suddenly Grian froze. Almost in what could not be determined as horror or awe, she asked, "You know Galadriel of Lothlórien?"  
  
"Yes, she's said by Haldir to arrive just in time for Beltane. In fact, it looks like she pulls over the hill now."  
  
"Who accompanies her?" her attention had diverted from the bow and arrow to Legolas Greenleaf and his words completely.  
  
"Arwen and Aragorn of Gondor, Celebrian, Lady of Rivendell—" he watched her reaction, when there was none he found this curious then reminded himself she was from the East. She would not know Celebrian had been killed by the orcs of Sauron. "She was brought from Valinor. The elves of Lórien. Do you not like Lórien?"  
  
"I was there when Lórien was… in a dark age," Grian replied. "There was no mercy."  
  
From some odd reason this comment made Legolas uncomfortable. She must have been around to see the dangers of the world for as far as he knew the forests of Lórien had never seen darkness. "What do you plan to sing at the Beltane festival?"  
  
"In Common Speech? Only one—Albatross. And two in my own language—Ailein Duinn and Nil Sí I nGrá."  
  
"Would you sing one now?" he wondered if she knew he was pleading with her, for once he'd been told his voice was too even. Even Amaryllis told him he should show more compassion than he seemed to. However, Legolas felt more than he exuded in his face and he wondered if Grian held secrets she did not show as well. He wondered how many elves and mortals did such. Perhaps that was why he liked Gimli; Gimli could always show his emotions and communicate them rather well.   
  
Smiling coyly, she looked at him and replied, "No. It would ruin the surprise."  
  
"Another then?"  
_  
__"A nigh'n dunn 's toigh leam thu__  
__'s ho or 's e mo roghainn thu__  
__'S a nigh'n donn's toigh leam thu__  
__thaghainn thu air bhoichead…__  
__  
__Nuar sheasadh tu air urlar dhannsadh to gu luth-mhor__  
__'S ged bhithinn anns a' chuil bhiodh mo shuil or a bhoichead…"_  
  
She told him and he cocked an eyebrow, and she smiled back. He cared not what it meant for the sweet words tolled out of her mouth so beautifully. With a kiss she left him, whispering, "I need sleep."  
  
  
_  
__"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"Gandalf!" Galadriel cried happily throwing her arms around the wizard and Amaryllis disappeared. It seemed quite odd, if any other soul had been there, for such a grand lady to give so childish a greeting. "It fills my heart with such mirth to see you again! You look worn my friend, what ails you?"  
  
"Elrond's forgetfulness. Saying it slipped his mind to inform Legolas the Black Queen has Vilya does not seem like him," Gandlaf pondered, as the other members of the party began to file into the room. "She tried to steal mine and she will try and take yours as well."  
  
Galadriel folded her arms, "And I will gladly give it to her."  
  
"What?!" Gandalf cried, deathly alarmed.   
  
Celebrian, though since her resurrection had been quite quiet in fact, folded her arms and proclaimed, "Why don't you eve call her by her name?"  
  
Haldir shot a sharp look her way, "Such evil Lothlórien never yielded." Truthfully though it was only a wish, for if he was to stand before the Black Queen with her bound and ready to kill or if he had even the chance of killing her—he would not. His heart would fail him.  
  
"But it did," Celebrian reminded him, and watched as the elf tried not to hang his head. "My husband is preoccupied, he still believes I am only a figment of his imagination. He believe she has made him go mad. Come Arwen." Taking her daughter's hand, she led the girl to a small grove of trees—only a few leaps away from the King of Mirkwood and a fair elf-maiden. "You will need what I have to teach you to defeat our Queen."  
  
Galadriel and Gandalf stood stunned by the fact Celebrian had snapped in such a fashion to favor their enemy. "You should not give her the ring," Gandalf redirected his attention to the Lady of Lothlórien.   
  
"I should and shall. With our presence she cannot remain hidden for long." Galadriel was correct, yet she knew not _how _correct.  
  
The entire company retired for the night without further ado, affairs of state weighing heavy on their heart. Swords clashed in practice in the grove adjacent to the river… while Galadriel's dreams were tormented.  
  
.-*-.  
  
A.N.Lessee…for those of you who haven't read the books:*. READ!* But there are the 3 rings of elves (no duh): #1—Vilya. Belongs to Elrond. Its gold with a sapphire. Ring of Air and helped wash away the Dark Riders in Book One. #2—Nenya, which of course belongs to Galadriel. Its made of mithril with a diamond. The Ring of Water (hello! Mirror Galadriel peeps) #3—Narya. Narya is the Ring of Fire and was entrusted in Gandalf's care. It has a ruby. Simple enough, ne? Other notes: I lied. No witch until Chapter 21 or 22. I have it written down up to there, just not on the computer! So… please keep reading and reviewing and all that nice stuff. Gracias.   
  
Disclaimer -.-  
  
E-Mail messy@usa.com  
  



	20. Brothers of Beltane

Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Twenty: Brothers of Beltane   
  
_Brotherhood is not brought on by the blood in which a family is binded. What should happen if the brotherhood becomes your family? Your hearty binds you to the forged members and if one hurts, then the entire family hurts. Some brothers become so close, no matter their differences, they can anticipate the others' actions and words. Such a friendship of love cannot be broken by the greatest evil, however, a brotherhood can be broken by one thing, and one thing alone. A woman._  
  
"Mr. Greenleaf! Mr. Greenleaf!" George ran and tugged at the new ruler's sleeve anxiously. The elf looked down at him evenly, quite accustomed to George's random spurts of panic. "Miss Grian! She's dancing she is! Against Amaryllis! And they looks like they'se gonna KILL each other…"  
  
"Excuse me," he said politely to Galadriel, who's face overcame with revelation. Ducking out the door into the chaos of light and music, he spotted the crowd watching two dancers—his two favorite elven women hunting to kill. "What's the contest?"  
  
"They challenged each other—whoever must stop dancing first loses," Pippin told him at the front of the stage, eating an apple. Amazing how he never got fat from the rate at which he ate… "Very hard to decide which to cheer on, you know. Amaryllis gives me food, Grian's pretty and very kind, and Amaryllis snaps at me sometimes… Food vs. Beauty. A moral dilemma."  
  
Legolas nodded and watched intently. Their shoes made clicks of noise he'd heard from Amaryllis many-a-time, but Grian just did not seem to have the…courage to do such a high-spirited thing. Up and down they bounced, feet flying above their head, and the musicians suddenly began to drop off like dying flies. The drummer was the last cease his playing, "Can't keep up," he muttered.   
  
In a rush, Grian fell flat on her face, and Legolas reached to get her but she jumped up before he could reach her. "Winning by treachery is not a win but a loss!" she informed Amaryllis curly.   
  
"You should know better than I."  
  
"Which is why I should tell you and have license to tell you."  
  
"Uh…oh," Pippin muttered.  
  
The fires in the elf-maidens' eyes ignited, they suddenly burst into bon-fires. Launching at her Amaryllis hissed, "Come here." To Legolas' surprise as he jumped up on the platform to separate the two, Amaryllis drew her sword—the ornate designs he admired as a child, threatened to slay Grian, and the beauty of the metal turned into devilry.   
  
On her own accord Grian grabbed a spectator's weapon, and defended herself… accordingly. As soon as Amaryllis was down, Grian dropped the sword and yelled, "_Damn Lothlórien blades_!"  
  
"No one may touch a blade that is not loyal to Lothlórien," Haldir replied handing the sword back to its rightful owner.  
  
_"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"I've got to get to the tavern stage," she whispered to no one. "I'm sorry…" Gesturing to the scene before her as she shuffled off. The crowd murmured their amazement, and Legolas undaunted helped Amaryllis up. Reassured she wasn't too badly shaken, took off after Grian careful not to leave his nanny in Haldir's hands—he didn't like Amaryllis much.   
  
" _'Stric tha thu 'g radh nach fhaigh thu cadal__  
__E hoireann o ro, a bhi e ho__  
__Mucht' mat a tha thu a' tamh a's a bhaile__  
__Hao ribhi eile, o hi a bho__  
__  
__'Smor tha an iondriann a tha bhuat-sa__  
__E hoireann o ro, a bhi e ho__  
__Dhol leis a; ghaoith ghlan mar be dual dhut__  
__Hao ribhi eile, o hi a bho__  
__  
__Dean eirigh, eirigh faramach__  
__'S e do chridhe a fhearr a dh'aithnicheas__  
__Dean eirigh, eirigh faramach__  
__Cur an rathad mor fo d' chasan-sa__  
__  
__Ged nach dearbh do rathad solas na soars__  
__E hoireann o ro, a bhi e ho__  
__Gabh for a challtuinn, seunadh chaoruinn__  
__Hao ribhi eile, o hi a bho__  
__  
__Cha bhi do shlighe crion gun storas__  
__E hoireann o ro, a bhi e ho__  
__Le meas a chiull is cno an eolais__  
__Hao ribhi eile, o hi a bho__  
__  
__Mas e seo do righainn, cha b'idir fogairt__  
__E hoireann o ro, a bhi e ho__  
__Miad mor an t-saoghall fo do bhrogan__  
__Hao ribhi eile, o hi a bho__  
__  
__Do sgriob ga do thoirt that bheanntan's chuantan__  
__E hoireann o ro, a bhi e ho__  
__'S tu giulain do dhachaidh ri do ghualainn__  
__Hao ribhi eile, o hi a bho__  
__  
__Dean eirigh, eirigh faramach__  
__'S e do chridhe a fhearr a dh'aithnicheas__  
__Dean eirigh, eirigh faramach__  
__Cur an rathad mor fo d' chasan-sa…_"  
  
"That was beautiful," Legolas said holding out a chalice of water for her, which she took graciously, her cheeks turning pink. "What happened?"  
  
"Ah… she tripped me."  
_  
__"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
Legolas was perplexed. Amaryllis was usually such a good sport… never in his life did he believe he'd seen her as malicious as she had been since his father fell ill. Perhaps his father and Amaryllis had been closer than he imagined, though he highly doubted it. Thranduil had always been highly dejected from the family and eventually Mirkwood.   
  
A cry rang from the crowd and he jerked around. Gimli? The dwarf did not push through the elves that came from far and wide, he stumbled through them. "Leg…las," he gulped, his mouth was bleeding profusely and he had the speech of a parched man from the desert. "She's so evil…evil! An-And she took my soul. She stole it when I wasn't looking."  
  
Taking him under the arm, Legolas asked, "Who?"  
  
"The Queen. The voice! She liked to taunt me… I got rid of her and that voice! She made me attack even though I fought her all the way, as hard as I could. I swear I did!"  
  
"Slow down," Legolas sat him at a table and gestured to the server of the tavern, supplying the festival to come hither.   
  
"I-I didn't mean to…"  
  
"Its alright. She possessed my father too… I want you to meet…" he turned to open Grian to the conversation but she was far away by the musicians. Sighing he pointed, "that is Grian—the most beautiful elf I've ever laid eyes upon."  
  
Gimli grinned from his tired state, "I am sorry." He glanced at Grian, folding his arms, "Don't trust the beautiful." A small elven child ran up to him, with a large as the mother cried out in fear, after all wasn't he the dwarven lord that had killed her husband? Putting the child in his lap, the small elf giggled. 'Don't like the looks of her. An ale please."  
  
"I do swear on Mount Doom I love her."   
  
"Love is blind."  
  
"Pessimist. So tell me more about the Black Queen."  
  
"Torturous she is. I need to apologize more… It wasn't me leading an attack! I could see Merry and Pip in the bushes but ne're did she let me stop. She controlled me body—scary feelin' that is! Is Galadriel here? I thought I heard she was…"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I want you to know, Legolas," Gimli drank his ale making funny faces at the younger elf. "I myself would never attack your father's…"  
  
"Its in my care."  
  
"Your kingdom. Thranduil is dead then. I'm sorry."  
  
"Quite alright, except for that fact I have to end all the wandering about. She sings!"  
  
"_I traveled- I kept watch for you __  
__over the ocean so wide__  
__Through seasons I held out for you__  
__-searching that starboard bow.__  
__Those sailors- never paid much heed to them__  
__-never held much by their tales__  
__And in the evening they might toss__  
__You a look but you can't give a kiss __  
__Without taking…__  
__  
__You sand me songs of sailors and sirens__  
__And petrels flew over we're far from the land__  
__When the winds came you held on like an albatross__  
__-dashed we were whiplashed by the salty brine…__  
__  
__Like an anchor – you clung to my neck__  
__Like an anchor – shelter from the storm__  
__Like an anchor – holding so hard onto me__  
__I cannot stay warm.__  
__  
__And I told you I would hold you__  
__When my arms were still sore__  
__But it's freezing and the beating__  
__Of your winds and I just can't take any more__  
__I watched the losing in your eyes__  
__And I saw your tear-stained face__  
__Like as ghost… like a promise…__  
__Like an anchor…"__  
_  
Gimli remained frozen, as did Gandalf staring at the stage. His eyes pierced Amaryllis seething behind Grian, as Legolas took note. His own eyes widened in revelation.  
_  
__"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"_  
  
"I learned this long ago as an infant," Grian told the people quietly as her voice usually was. "I And I think it would do good to explain what it means… 'It is told that when this woman was going to be buried, she was to be buried on the far side of Diadair Sound; that a tempest came upon the crew, so that they had to put the coffin overboard; that the coffin went right against the tide and the wind, and that it sank at the very side where her sweetheart had been drowned, whereupon peace and calm came upon the sea, and the men, who were in great danger of losing their lives, were saved…'   
  
_Gura mise tha fo eislean__  
__Moch sa mhaduinn is mi g'eirigh__  
__  
__O hi shiubhlainn leat__  
__Hi ri bho, ho rinn o ho__  
__Ailein Duinn, o hi shiubhlainn leat__  
__  
__Ma 's'en cluasag dhuit a ghaineamh__  
__Me 'se leabaidh dhut a gheamainn__  
__  
__Ma 's en t-iasg do choinlean geala__  
__Ma 's na Righ do luchd-faire__  
__  
__O hi shiubhlainn leat__  
__Hi ri bho, ho rinn o ho__  
__Ailein Duinn, o hi shiubhlainn leat…_"  
  
Grian shuffled off the stage and the Black Queen broke into a run after her.  
  
.-*-.  
  
Translations First song Grian sings: Fear-Allabain "The Wanderer"  
_  
__You often say you can't get sleep__  
__Suffocating as you are in the city__  
__Much you long for what you lack__  
__To go with the cleansing wind as heredity dictates__  
__  
__Arise, arise and go with a shout of gladness__  
__Your heart it is that knows best__  
__Arise, arise and go with a shout of gladness__  
__Set your feet on the highway__  
__  
__Though your road won't promise comfort or freedom__  
__Take the hazel's wisdom, rowan's protection__  
__Your journey won't be bare or lack provision__  
__With the fruit of son and the nut of knowledge__  
__  
__If this is your choice it is no exile__  
__The great expanse of the world under you shoes__  
__Your Journey goes over mountain and oceans__  
__And you carry your home on your shoulder. __  
__  
__Arise, arise and go with a shout of gladness__  
__Your heart it is that knows best__  
__Arise, arise and go with a shout of gladness__  
__Set your feet on the highway. _  
  
A.N. Long chapter. Yes I know. But I thought you peeps might want to know who the Black Queen is. She will be revealed in next chapter! *applause from Lady Une* Btw… who do you think it is? There's two choices, ne? Anyways, R & R!   
  
Disclaimer I don't own LotR. Lovely other people do. I don't own Fear-Allabain either. (Sheesh!) Capercaillie owns it, they're a Scottish band and you should really check out their stuff! ^.^ It was written by the following people: Donald Shaw, Norman MacLean, Aonghas MacHeacall. Ailein Duinn is a traditional Scottish Highland song, and I got the translation (though I've sang it for many years) from Capercaillie's CD leaflet. Yay! There we go. All finished!  
  
E-Mail Got a beef? messy@usa.com   
  
Corrections The last chapter SHOULD have been titled: "A Nighean Donn' S Toigh Leam Thu." Níl Sí I nGrá is a completely different song! Wow… six pages! ^.^  
  



	21. Revelation

Dragon Witch

By Nezumi

Chapter Twenty-one: Revelation

Is it the setting in which one is placed as a child that makes it hate everything and everyone? Or love everything? Many great scholars believe that these children, whatever their disposition may be, are born with such traits. Is that really fair to the small one? Other scholars say it is purely the environment in which a child is placed that they become evil or good. But is that give the youngster any credit either? Perhaps it is a combination of both; their nature is spurred by their nurture. But what if their nature is contradicted and is the exact opposite of what should have been? 

The child in Gimli's lap gave a cry of fear latching onto his beard, and pointing at the Eastern Hill. A hundred thousand orcs ran at Mirkwood Castle. "Dear Eleberth," the two friends together whispered. The mother grabbed her child and ran as elves reached for their weapons. Gandalf ran, hard for an old man like himself, all the way to Galadriel as the elves with a few dwarves among their ranks clashed like a tidal wave with the orcs. _Come out, _Gandalf ordered the Black Queen. _Or should I indentify you?_

_Let me get my sword, _she said.

"She is here," Gandalf said. "I just cast my gaze upon. With the woman who loves Legolas."

Galadriel stood and watched on the balcony a war waging below, in great sorrow. Had she been something better than this, she could have prevented so many elves from the halls of Mandos, but now she was doomed to feel this heavy weight on her heart for all eternity. Her heart knew the name the Black Queen would take. 

"Lady Galadriel!" Legolas ran to her, breathless. "I cannot find Amaryllis or Grian."

"You will se both in a few moments. You will see your enemy as well."

The Black Queen ran through the halls she knew so well and had worked to keep clean and free from the toils of the outside world. She caused the trouble she fought against. How could that be? Lifting the soft mattress, she yelled at herself. _I have betrayed his trust! _The sword of which she held was like no other and as she ran through the halls her dress changed. The skirts of which she wore turned into black folds of the East and her eyes out-lined themselves with the color of charcoal. 

"Here she comes," Galadriel said, not even with a glance behind her. Then pointed towards the other balcony, telling Legolas, "Your aim should shoot farther there." Leaping over to the next balcony, the elf fired round after round, until a cry of battle behind him called and it faltered, then like a royal she approached. She held her head high, as she stood beside him. 

Casting the sword out across the battle field half the elves fell and Haldir seethed, at whom he would never admit, but he did feel the hate running through his veins. Celebrian held her head and cried. The Black Queen once again faltered. Stepping to the balcony, she heard the eyes of all the elves in Mirkwood run out of their heads. 

"_Grian_?" Legolas asked in horror. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she turned to him, "That is not my name."

"Then who are you?" Merry demanded, rather flustered that such a nice elf was evil. She could not possibly be their enemy! 

Her eyes narrowed. "I am the disgraced of Lothlórien," she said calmly holding a sword to her eyes, as if to split her face in half, as Aragorn had been taught so well to do. "I am disgraced by my friend of Lothlórien. I am disgraced by my father. I am disgraced by my mother. I am disgraced by my sister and my brother, whom I have returned the favor to. I am disgraced by the elven race. I am disgraced by the mortals. I am honored by the East. I am the dragon. I am a with. And I am the Master's great Queen."

"Grainne," Galadriel whispered solemnly holding out her hand. "Why do you steal Vilya? I have offered you Nenya several times."

"I never wanted Nenya!" she cried, pointing a sword at the Lady—the Lady of Lothlórien was cast against the wall. "Orcs—retreat!" The orcs, creatures of Nightmare fled over the Eastern Hills and were gone as quickly as they had come. They swarm the hills and occasionally would grab a dying elf and drag him over with them and the mothers and wives would cry in agony for their devoured warriors. "L-Legolas, I-I…" she stuttered upon looking into the once emotionless eyes, now bathed in confusion.

"_You're _the Black Witch Queen?"

"I-" she grabbed his tunic, pleading with him. "Please Legolas… forgive me! I love you…I cannot. My master… help me… I… but I'm so confused. Please forgive me."

He was stunned and she vanished into thin air. All of Mirkwood, and the dwarves that had descended upon the hills to _help _the elves, turned to him for an explanation. "I had no inkling," he said quietly. _I should not love her still, _he scolded himself. _It runs deep… how this hurts, but I love her nonetheless. I just can't bring myself to believe she is as evil as they say. Why? _

Haldir clamped his on hand on Legolas' arm, "Come. We will explain everything."

…

Twelve companions sat around a table and Legolas cursed under his breath in Sindarian. He should have know, but how could he? "Who is her mother?" he demanded. She had spoke of so many that she had been disgraced by, and he could not bear not knowing of whom she spoke. Those of Lothlórien seemed to know, and he did not like to be left from their circle. 

Galadriel stated placidly, "I am her mother."

"So Celebrian is her sister?" Merry asked, looking at the other elf, still standing with her arms folded, obviously not happy about the situation. 

"Half-sister to be precise," Galadriel replied, still remaining tranquil. Yet her eyes were blank, staring into the cataclysm of her life and this predicament. It truly was her fault, as well as any other person's. 

"Then who is the father?" Legolas asked darkly.

Gandalf blinked, "I am Grainne's father." The entire table turned to stare at him, falling into complete silence. It had never even occurred to most that Gandalf the Grey, the Wise, could be the father of an illegitimate child. Haldir and Celebrian, however, stood just the same only looking at Gandalf to explain further. Their eyes already knew this history, and yet Arwen was completely perplexed. She wondered to herself if this was true, and it seemed to be, if her father was aware of it. Perhaps this was why he hated the Black Queen so much? One could not be certain. "She is the heir to Lothlórien and to Nenya, but she has always desired this." The old wizard placed a ring that bore a ruby on its band in the center of the great table. "Narya, she has coveted like nothing else. Never Nenya."

Haldir broke in to the conversation, uncommon for usually he stood at obedient attention. "Perhaps it is wiser to tell him the entire story, it would only be fair." Galadriel and Gandalf shifted uncomfortably. So Haldir continued, "When Grainne was born, at the same time as I or around then—Lothlórien had the dwarves, whom used to reside there, forged a weapon _with _the elves for the first time. It was the sword she carries, even now, and is far more powerful than any weapon you might imagine, though it does not exceed the one ring. It will not shatter even upon Sauron or Saruman. Its made of the gods nearly. Many a dwarf and many an elf poured themselves into it."

"You say one who is not loyal to Lothlórien cannot touch its blade. Why, then, can she hold this?" Legolas demanded.

"Because it was also made by dwarves… Anyway, we were friends from a very early age… 3 springs, that's the only reason I know all this. Gandalf taught her about magic—only white magic mind you, but it can be twisted. And Lady Galadriel taught her about elven magic. She was the _nicest _child until she turned 989 years of age. Gandalf left to the Shire more frequently, and she became rather bitter towards hobbit. All but two families she hated, those favored were the Tooks and the Gamgees. However, she cursed the name Baggins: all the Baggins' children were doomed to wander from the Shire and eventually the One Ring would come in their hands."

"And she came out of Lórien's favor then?" Merry asked.

"Yes, when Gandalf heard. An elven curse is not reversible," Haldir replied. "Needless to say she was in heaps of trouble, and ran away in fright." _And nearly convinced me to go with her, and I wish I had…_ he added only to himself. "Lothlórien disowned her when she killed Mirkwood elves, whom helped build this castle by the way. They were trying to delay her from going East. And so, of course, she kept running East—farther and farther." _Even when I caught her and tried to bring her back… _"Until she was found, by Master Draekon. Seeing her potential for evil, he turned her against us all." _Even me. _"If I ever get my hands on that _Saurar _I'll…"

Celebrian herself set a reassuring hand upon his shoulder and then on Legolas', who was fuming a bit too. She could see the violent anger deep in the elf of Mirkwood's eyes, hidden to anyone who dared not look closer. "She has the will to return to us, if it is any comfort."

"Do not give any false hope Celebrian," Galadriel warned.

"I give no false hope, Mother, for she now has what she long desired, but knows not what to do with it. Its called love and neither of you gave it to her freely. We all disgraced and discarded her. All but two elves in middle earth hold her in contempt… I think Haldir and Legolas will prove themselves more useful than anyone in this war."

.-*-.

A.N. Oi! Oi! Love it dontcha? Hee-hee. Did ya think it was her? Anyway, her name I didn't exactly get from Mithrandir's (I think that's how you spell her penname) Grace O'Malley fic. I just looked for two names that looked similar Grian and Grainne (both Irish Gaelic) then I realized same name! ^.^ Coincident! R & R! (Btw, please read Mithrandir's Grace O'Malley fic… its really good and on my favorite's list… ^.^)

E-Mail messy@usa.com

P.S. Changed my author's note font size. It was takin' up too much dog-gone space!


	22. Haldir vs Pip?

Disclaimer: Own nadda. Get zipp.  
  
Dragon Witch  
By Nezumi  
Chapter Twenty-two: Haldir vs.... Pip?  
  
_What is perfection? How can one be perfect? Is it flawless? But what is flawless? How are you pure? Pureness comes from the saintly and what is the opposite of the perfect? What is nearly perfect? The opposite of perfect cannot be flawed, because a flawed object only has a small portion of things wrong with it. And what if perfect meant that you accepted the world as it was? What if perfect was the simple acceptance that you are not perfect?  
  
_"Where are you going Master Legolas?" George asked loudly in the stables as two elves packed their bags.   
  
They both whipped around, a finger to their lips. Haldir had no patience for hobbits. They lived short and those short lives were simple, they did not care about anything besides their garden and making certain everything was very orderly. They had a habit, despite not caring about the unknown, of being entirely too nosy-- especially Gamgees about the lives of elves. "Be quiet, George!"  
  
"We're going to the East."  
  
"What?!" the wee little hobbit nearly too his hair out. Then he straightened his shoulders and hopped atop a wooden box. "If you are going then I am going as well!"  
  
Haldir scowled. This was going to be interesting... A hobbit trying to follow two elves. True he was probably just as light from lack of height, but a pony could never match an elven steed. If he had forced her back to Rivendell at the beginning of the Third Age then this would not be so! Why had he been so weak? So read to believe she knew what she was doing? Oh... this was all his fault. He had allowed this to drag on, he had watched as she assisted Sauron and Saruman. Her bishops in her twisted game of chess.   
  
Two other small figures slid into the stables. "We're comin' too!" Pippin declared gesturing to himself and Merry. "Ya see, we told good ole' Sam we'd look after his boy, since he heard it was getting mighty fishy over here. And so we hafta... especially considering Legolas's mind isn't exactly... um... completely here anymore."  
  
Legolas shot him a death look. "We can't take three of you."  
  
"I'll take two," Amaryllis came forth with a horse. "Preferrably George and Merry."  
  
"Ah... looks like I'll be stuck with Haldir!" Pippin strolled up to Haldir with a broad grin. "Dontcha just hate me?"  
  
Haldir rolled his eyes mounted his steed, grabbed Pippin, jerked him up (rather roughly too mind you), whispered a word to his horse-- all in a matter of seconds. Personally, contrary to the popular hobbit, Pip found this quite exciting and didn't mind half as much anymore. After all, he and Merry often visited Rohan and elves were much more gentle than the Rohhrim in such matters. "You hobbits will be the death of me," the elf growled outloud.   
  
"Oh do you have a personal vendetta against us because Gandalf went to the Shire so much and that's what made Grainne run away?" Pip asked conversationally. This probably wasn't the best conversation topic the hobbit could think up - after all, who made the best lembas would be much more interesting but the look on the elf's face was priceless. However, Pip was quickly worried he might be booted off the horse and he was ever so bored with his dreary life now-a-days.   
  
"Perhaps," Haldir replied and looked to the East over the land.   
  
"I'll have you know, Mr. Elf that according to YOUR own explanation that _I _am no regular hobbit. You said so yourself! You said that she cursed the name of The Shire, and I come from Brandybuck Hall, but she gave pardon to her two fondnesses... The Gamgees - which is George over there, probably why she humored him so much - and the Tooks. That's me! Merry qualifies too, seeing as his mum was my aunt and such. So you hold your tongue there. I took a fair likin' to her even if she is as evil as Her Lady of the Golden Wood claims," Pippin spat.   
  
"Oh and you never even knew her before," Haldir rolled his eyes. He did not humor hobbits. They were bothersome. Did he think HE knew Grainne in the second age?  
  
"I knew enough of her!" Pippin retorted hotly. Haldir once again rolled his eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me! She doesn't make as good as biscuits as Amaryllis but she makes the BEST caramel apples and anyone who makes food that heavenly is not completely evil."  
  
"I never said she was evil!" Haldir argued back.   
  
"No, but you made it sound as if I was wrong. And if I was wrong then you would be saying I was evil!" Pippin replied. "And if you remember correctly YOU said YOU had a vendetta against hobbits 'perhaps'.... therefore your opinion is biased!"   
  
"You know big words for such a little creature," Haldir commented monotonously. "It must fill in for the lack of common sense in your brain."   
_  
_"Hrmph!" Pip proclaimed. "That isn't a retort, so I shan't take it is such. And I shall tell you that I have won this confrontation."

"I hardly call it a confrontation when I am six foot five inches tall and you are hardly four and a half," Haldir responded.

"Well, you know what they say about big people don't you? They're all so stupid that tell can't see what's in front of their face because their heads are in the clouds!" 

"You, my little friend, are looking to get thrown off of a horse."

"That should be quite an adventure I suppose."  
  
*

Arwen sat outside the place staring into the far east. Farther than Mordor had ever been. Sauron only a pawn? Highly unlikely. And since her aunt was half Galadhrim, quite literally in fact, she may not lie but she could beat around a poisonous bush. It did not strike her as odd any longer that her grandmother and aunt should be so alike. Two elves bound for power even if those powers were on the opposite sides of the playing field.

_Why do you deny your nature?_

"And who is there?" Arwen asked aloud. Was she going mad? Were the forests of Mirkwood, lingering in darkness, causing her to lose her sanity? Was all lost?

_Why did you give up your immortality for some stupid man. He is only a man._

"Is that you? My aunt? Grainne the ever-so-terrible? Can you not face me in person? You are coward!" she felt the wind whisk by her ear and drew her sword just in time to protect her skull from the blow. "Nice to meet you too."

"And what do you know of cowardice?"

"Enough to know that it applies to you!"

"Hold you tongue," she hissed.

"Who are you to lecture? You have forsaken your people!"

"As have you! For love, and what pithy thing that is. Love, not so close to hate in many ways." _But Aragorn is such a gentleman, more so than some elves, even his friends that are elves. And you know your father was quite a barbarian—_   
  
"Shut up!" the dark-haired woman yelled at someone Arwen could hear, a different voice. "Damn Haldir. Meddler. Always has been! Tell them to stay at home! They come for me but what if I will not go? Ask them that. They come for their deaths. I have no qualms about killing Haldir." _He was the only one I could run to. I convinced him to come with me. To come with to the east. The east! The land where our dreams are realized! Then he went back half-way to Mirkwood. I was abandoned alone. And Mirkwood… the destruction of Mirkwood eased my pain. Do you understand? Do you forgive me? _"Do not listen to her," the other voice informed Arwen. "She is mad. Mirkwood always makes her insane." 

_And Draekon found me. Wounded. And he tapped into everything, and he took my soul so that I would become his queen. With promise of power. Mother always valued power. It was all for her. I thought, if I became powerful enough that she would allow me back into her world. I thought, I thought I could receive Narya. I thought so much. I thought and thought and I blame myself entirely. I went insane with Celebrian… Your mother she died… She love me too. And Draekon was such a—_

"He showed me how the world works," Grainne, the Dragon Witch struck again. And the clash went up into the night, Grainne's tongue lashing out at her niece. Taunting in a language that heeded all evil. Arwen was quite satisfied to realize sweat beaded on her brow. "You look like me. Funny thing that is." It was not the voice that had been speaking to her and it momentarily stunned her. Then the fire reignited in Grainne's eyes and she swiped. Blood. "You never fight with me, child. You lose."

"Would you kill me your own flesh and blood? Who killed my mother? Your sister? Do not displace yourself from your relatives."

"I do not know who killed my sister," Grainne's voice was hushed and the pointed tip was only a increment of air before her heart.

And the star of the night let out a cry of horror, as a blade descended. "NO!"

.-*-.

A.N. Wooeee! Does it feel good to be back! After taking away a short period of time from my obsession! (LotR) I have come back with my wonderful Mary-Sue-ish fics! Haha! Anyway, I try not to make them horrible Mary-Sues as we will see in the next chapter. Hopefully. 10 months to update. Is that a record? LOL! Anyway, please R & R and then check out some other stuff and kick me in the butt to finish it too! 


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